





























URBAN DEMOCRACY 


CHESTER Cp xV MAXEY, Ph.D. 

MILES C. MOORE PROFESSOR OF POLITICAL SCIENCE 
WHITMAN COLLEGE 



D. C. HEATH AND COMPANY 

BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO 

ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO DALLAS 

LONDON 



IS 7* 

.^ 35 " 

C T1 


* 


Copyright, 1929 
By D. C. Heath and Company 
2 f 9 


PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 


©CIA 103 6 2 U 


INTRODUCTION 

There are many books on city government and there will be 
many more as the years go on, for city government is the most 
plastic and the most rapidly changing of contemporary politi¬ 
cal institutions. In keeping with the modern tendency toward 
the multiplication and specialization of courses of study, dur¬ 
ing the last few years a number of exceptionally fine text-books 
have been produced dealing with special divisions or phases 
of the subject of municipal government. Some have chosen 
to confine themselves to the field of politics and governmental 
structure; others have restricted themselves to the field of ad¬ 
ministration; still others have limited themselves to the field 
of European city government or to that of American city gov¬ 
ernment. This trend toward specialization is made inevitable 
by the increasing number of students electing to concentrate in 
political science and to pursue graduate studies in that field. 
For such students the advanced and highly specialized text¬ 
book is exceedingly helpful, if not absolutely necessary. 

The present book has a very different purpose. Most col¬ 
leges find it impossible to offer a highly specialized list of 
courses in municipal government. If the subject is taught at 
all, there is of necessity but a single course, which must be of 
a general and somewhat elementary nature. Such courses must 
be more extensive than intensive, and must aim to serve the 
needs of the student who is not specializing in political science 
as well as the needs of the student who is majoring in it. The 
present volume is designed as a text-book for that kind of 
course. It deals with municipal government as a problem of 
democracy. It treats both American and European municipal 
institutions and practices, though not in the conventionally 
comparative way. The object of the book is to focus atten¬ 
tion on a limited number of fundamental municipal problems 
and to present both American and European experience with 
reference to these problems. 

The book does not pretend to be an exhaustive treatise, but 
merely a convenient introductory manual for the student. For 


IV 


INTRODUCTION 


supplementary reading a brief list of selected references is ap¬ 
pended to each chapter. A much longer list might have been 
given in each case, but it was thought best to include only re¬ 
cent books and only such of those as are likely to be available 
in every college library. Appended to each chapter, also, is a 
brief list of suggested questions and problems for discussion. 
These, of course, are merely examples of scores of similar 
queries which might be propounded. Experience has shown 
that questions and problems of this nature propounded at the 
time a reading assignment is given will engender a spontaneity 
of interest and discussion that the ancient probing type of 
quiz rarely produces. It is for the purpose of suggesting that 
method of procedure that a few illustrative questions and prob¬ 
lems have been added to each chapter. The combined in¬ 
genuity of teachers and students will undoubtedly suggest 
many more. 


Whitman College 
May 2, 1929 


C. C. M. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Introduction .iii 

CHAPTER 

I. What Is a City? . i 

II. The City As a Factor in Civilization . . 7 

III. The Urbanization of the Modern World. 12 

IV. Some Social and Economic Aspects of Ur¬ 

ban Life .18 

V. Some Political Aspects of Urbanization . 31 

VI. The City and the Central Government . 39 

VII. The City and the State in the United 

States.52 

VIII. The Structure of City Government . . 74 

IX. European Systems of City Government . 80 

X. Municipal Institutions in Latin America 95 

XI. The Evolution of American City Govern¬ 
ment . 101 

XII. American Systems of City Government . 113 

XIII. Form and Function: A Recapitulation . 140 

XIV. Municipal Politics.150 

XV. Metropolitan Government.168 

XVI. The Problem of Administration . . . 183 

XVII. Safety, Order, and Justice.218 

XVIII. Health and Physical Vigor.252 

XIX. Education and Cultural Betterment . . 275 

XX. Economic Protection and Assistance . . 285 

XXI. Municipal Utilities.295 


v 











CONTENTS 


PAGE 


vi 

CHAPTER 

XXII. City Planning.328 

XXIII. Local Conveniences and Improvements . 351 

XXIV. Municipal Finance. 37° 

XXV. Urban Democracy. 397 

Index. 4°3 





URBAN DEMOCRACY 



CHAPTER I 

WHAT IS A CITY? 

A city is something not made with hands. It is true that the 
visible evidences of the existence of a city are the brick, stone, 
and steel of the marvelous structures through and about which 
the pulsating life of the city ceaselessly ebbs and flows. But 
these things are merely tangible manifestations of an intangible 
reality. A city consists of things seen and things unseen, and 
it is the things unseen that really determine the character of the 
city. 

The things seen in a city are people, structures, and vast 
quantities of chattels; but these things do not make a city. 
You might assemble on a small tract of land any conceivable 
number of persons, house them in structures perfectly typical 
of city life, and make them possessors of all the chattels cus¬ 
tomarily found in cities; but you could not thereby create a 
city. Cities are not founded; they grow. Men have often 
founded settlements which have grown into cities, but they 
have just as often founded settlements which, failing to become 
cities, have promptly vanished from the face of the earth. The 
history of humanity is replete with abortive attempts to estab¬ 
lish cities which have refused to spring into existence at the 
mandate of the founder. No man ever built a city, and no man 
ever will. The reason is that a city is a community, and a 
community is something which evolves out of the interplay of 
forces that are not subservient to the conscious direction of the 
individual will. 

No one has been able to enumerate all of the forces which 
enter into the formation of communities, but it is not difficult 
to describe their results. A community is formed when human 
beings associate in a common life and destiny to such an ex¬ 
tent that they are by this fact differentiated from all other 
aggregations of people. They desire, as a rule, to dwell to¬ 
gether on a common territory, to enjoy mutual intercourse in 
social and economic relations, to acknowledge a common his- 


Things seen 
and things 
unseen 


2 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The social 
foundations 
of commu¬ 
nity life 


The forces 
which make 
a city 


The indi¬ 
viduality of 
cities 


tory, and to have a common government. Each individual de¬ 
velops a conscious or subconscious feeling that his life is part 
of a common whole which is unique and perhaps superior to 
all others. 

Of course there were communities before there were cities. 
The family was probably the first community developed by the 
race, and the family in turn expanded and developed into primi¬ 
tive pastoral or agricultural tribes. But the nature of pastoral 
or agricultural life is such that it tends to weaken the cohesive 
force of community feeling. The individual in a pastoral or 
agricultural economy is more or less isolated, and is subject to 
influences which counteract the stimuli to thought and action 
which originate through association with others. A real com¬ 
munity must have such a common habitation and a continuity 
of associative intercourse as will foster the spirit of unity and 
the feeling of singularity that are indispensable to the develop¬ 
ment and maintenance of a consciousness of community. 

The bringing together of large numbers of people on a small 
and compact area supplies the common habitation. If the cir¬ 
cumstances of life in this common habitation are such as to 
involve the inhabitants in continuous relations of a social, eco¬ 
nomic, and political character; if the inhabitants have perhaps 
a common racial and religious heritage; if time, tradition, or 
mythology produce for them a common history, then there is 
sure to arise a prepotent consciousness of unity, a passionate 
spirit of social coexistence, which is the inward and unseen 
essence of a city. 

To speak, therefore, of the soul of a city is more than just 
to utter a euphonious phrase. Literally speaking, it may not 
be true that a city has a soul, but there is undeniably in every 
city a vitality of community consciousness that tends to pro¬ 
duce a distinct spirit and individuality. Every observant trav¬ 
eler is aware of this. Despite similarities of race, religion, 
culture, social and economic background, no two cities are 
absolutely alike. Paris, Lyons, Marseilles — alike, yet how 
different! London, Liverpool, Manchester — British to the 
core, but each possessed of an indefinable flavor of individu¬ 
ality. New York, New Orleans, San Francisco — sister cities 
in every external respect, but remarkable for their differences 
as much as for their resemblances. Contemporary critics of 
American life are wont to bemoan the drab uniformity and 
monotony of American cities. With biting sarcasm they deride 


WHAT IS A CITY? 


3 

our standardization of street layout, of public and private 
architecture, of modes of living and doing business. In a 
measure perhaps they are right, but their criticisms are often 
superficial. Two cities could not be more alike in externals 
than Cleveland and Detroit. They have practically the same 
economic background; both are begrimed by a pall of soft coal 
smoke; the same heterogeneous industrial population is found 
in both, and the same swanky bourgeoisie; industrial plants, 
skyscrapers, apartment houses, and slums are similarly stereo¬ 
typed in both; the same din and clamor characterizes the daily 
life of both. Despite these similarities of feature, every person 
who has tarried Jong enough in these two cities to know them 
will admit that somehow they are different. Detroit is Detroit 
and Cleveland is Cleveland, and if by the waving of a magic 
wand the populations of the two cities could be exchanged, 
leaving all else untouched, neither city would be what it was 
before. For the truth is that a city is not simply associated 
human beings plus topographical, social, economic, and politi¬ 
cal factors; it is all of these things woven together as a fabric 
of indescribable complexity, as mysterious and marvelous as 
life itself. 

Very seldom is a city brought into being by the operation 
of a single force. The truth of this assertion is proclaimed by 
the story of almost every city the world has ever known. At 
some time in the past, and for some compelling reason, a large 
number of persons has been compactly settled upon a very 
small segment of the earth’s surface. Various forces have then 
conspired to multiply the number of inhabitants far out of 
proportion to the extension of the area upon which they have 
taken up their residence. Activities necessarily carried on in 
common and daily mutual intercourse have combined to pro¬ 
duce a powerful and persistent feeling of unity and more or 
less systematic arrangements for carrying on the common life. 
Finally, time, acting as a great alembic, has synthesized these 
various forces and thus has produced a city. 

Anthropologists and historians are generally of the opinion 
that the germinal causes of city growth in the ancient world 
were defense and religion. When people abandon a hunting or 
pastoral economy and settle down to obtain a livelihood by 
agriculture or trade, they have need of a means of defense to 
make it difficult to oust them from the locality which they have 
chosen to occupy and hold as their own. The most obvious ex- 


The causal 
factors of 
city growth 


1. Defense 


4 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


2. Religion 


3. Commerce 
and industry 


pedient is the fortress or citadel. Just as the early settlers of 
the American frontier were obliged to establish their settlements 
in the vicinity of a stockade or fort behind which they might 
take refuge in case of attacks by Indians, so the traders or agri¬ 
culturists of prehistoric days were obliged to have a stronghold 
which would enable them to resist the attacks of their enemies. 
A suitable site was selected and surrounded by walled fortifica¬ 
tions. Behind these defenses the people had their dwellings, or 
if they did not actually take up their abode within the walls, 
they lived near enough to take refuge there in times of danger. 
This probably was the primary incentive to city-building, but 
religion was often closely linked with it. People having a 
racial affinity and a common tradition were likely to possess a 
common religion. There would be a natural tendency for them 
to gather in close proximity to sacred places and sacred objects, 
such as shrines, temples, and idols, and to defend them against 
profanation. The heart of the citadel was the holy of holies, 
and people gathered within and about the walls of the city not 
only to protect themselves and their property but also to pro¬ 
tect their most hallowed and sacrosanct possessions. 

Factors such as these may account for the beginnings of 
cities, but they do not explain the transformation of an urban 
settlement into a gigantic hive of social activity. The powers 
which accomplish that miraculous metamorphosis are com¬ 
merce and industry. An urban community may be ideally 
located for purposes of defense and well suited to the needs of 
religion, but unless it is strategically placed with reference to 
trade routes and industrial resources it will never become a 
great city. The fortunes of cities vary directly with the shift¬ 
ing tides of trade and industry. Cities grow and decline, rise 
and fall, as the circumstances of economic life dictate. The 
precise location of each city and the extent of its development 
are matters that are largely determined by the fickle gods of 
business. The discovery or development of new trade routes 
spells doom for cities that have flourished along the line of old 
trade routes; the development of railways ruins cities whose 
prosperity has been dependent upon canal or river navigation; 
the evolution of new industrial processes undermines the posi¬ 
tion of cities whose fortunes are dependent upon old industrial 
processes. Aside from commerce and industry the most power¬ 
ful agency in the upbuilding of cities has been the political life 
of man. Government means centralization; the process of 


WHAT IS A CITY? 


s 

government is the kind of thing that of necessity radiates from 
centers of population, and can be carried on in no other way. 
Since the conduct of government involves large numbers of 
persons, it follows inevitably that when a place becomes a 
governmental center its growth is bound to be greatly stimu¬ 
lated. The greatness of Rome is to be attributed as much to 
the fact that she was the nucleus of a world empire as to the 
magnitude of her trade and industry. The same thing may be 
said of other political centers, from imperial capitals to the 
meanest county or provincial seat in the world. 

These explanations of city growth are good as far as they go, 
but they do not penetrate the deeper mystery of the social 
evolution by virtue of which a vast multitude of human be¬ 
ings is transformed into an organic collectivity. If, as we be¬ 
lieve, a city is something more than a human hodge-podge — 
if it is a thing that vibrates with organized, orderly, functional¬ 
ized life — how has this come to be? Science has not yet 
made it possible to answer that question finally and perfectly. 
Before that can be done the researches of the sociologist, the 
psychologist, the anthropologist, and the biologist must be car¬ 
ried far beyond their present limits. We know, of course, that 
human nature is adaptable, and capable of accommodating 
itself to varying environmental conditions. We know also that 
the behavior of each individual — his entire pattern of life, in 
fact — is determined by neurological reactions to the complex 
array of stimuli, both internal and external, which set in mo¬ 
tion his response mechanisms. We know further that behavior 
of individuals in the mass is determined in the same way except 
that the affecting stimuli are enormously complicated by the 
fact that the behavior of each individual in a mass of individ¬ 
uals is influenced by his contacts with other individuals. So 
we may say that the characteristics of individual and of social 
behavior are both determined by the number, variety, potence, 
and mutual interaction of the stimuli which affect the individ¬ 
ual. A constant or frequent repetition of certain stimuli and 
their characteristic responses tends to beget habitual conduct, 
and habitual conduct on the part of large numbers of associ¬ 
ated individuals tends to produce what, for the want of a better 
name, we call social institutions. 

Now it is an obvious fact that congestion of population must 
inevitably produce conditions of both a physical and a social 
character which will stimulate behavior such as would not oc- 


4. Govern¬ 
ment 


What causes 
the social 
integration 
of the city? 


6 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


cur under other circumstances. The constant and intimate 
contact of the individual with many others of his own kind, 
the unavoidable community of life and interests arising from 
such contacts, the necessity for division of labor and thus for 
cooperation in business and industrial life — these and many 
similar conditions which are inherent in the city have the 
effect of socializing the behavior of individuals and masses of 
individuals who live under urban conditions. In other words, 
they tend to think and act as though they were particles of an 
organic whole. When this social-mindedness reaches the point 
where it serves as a bond to hold people together and to dif¬ 
ferentiate them from all other masses of people, they may be 
said to have become a real community. 

Let us not suppose, however, that our recourse to social psy¬ 
chology has given us a complete explanation of the nature of a 
city. The best that can be said, perhaps, is that it has thrown 
some light upon the processes of social evolution and has en¬ 
abled us to perceive that the city is essentially a social institu¬ 
tion with economic, political, and historic foundations. 


Selected References 

N. Anderson and E. C. Lindeman, Urban Sociology, Chap. I. 

F. G. Goodnow and F. G. Bates, Municipal Government, pp. 3 - 24 . 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1 . Study the origins of your own city and several others in the 
same region. Why do they happen to be situated upon the precise 
tracts of land now occupied by them? What brought about the 
original settlement? What different forces have accelerated or re¬ 
tarded their growth? What future can you predict for them? 

2 . In what ways do you conceive that the “ community spirit ” of 
your city differs from that of neighboring cities? Are these differ¬ 
ences imaginary or real? If you think them real, cite evidence to 
prove your contention. 


CHAPTER II 

THE CITY AS A FACTOR IN CIVILIZATION 

The story of civilization in every age and in every part of 
the world is a story of cities. Most that is important in the 
history of any civilization can be learned from the history of 
its cities. He who would penetrate the mysterious depths of 
ancient Egyptian civilization must master the history of Mem¬ 
phis, Thebes, and other great urban centers in the great mother 
of western cultures. For the story of the vanished civilizations 
of the Euphrates Valley one must go to Ur and Babylon; to 
learn why “ The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold ” 
it is necessary to delve into the history of Assur and Nineveh; 
to appreciate the marvels of ancient Persia one must read the 
chronicles of Ecbatana and Susa; to follow the story of Phoeni¬ 
cian culture and civilization calls for an understanding of the 
rise and fall of Tyre, Sidon, and later Carthage; to comprehend 
the sublime tragedy of Hebrew civilization one need know little 
more than the history of Jerusalem. “ The glory that was 
Greece and the grandeur that was Rome ” — what are they but 
the vanished glories of Athens, Corinth, Sparta, Miletus, Syra¬ 
cuse, Rome, Ravenna, Byzantium, and other great cities of the 
Hellenic and Latin worlds? What is there in Islamic civiliza¬ 
tion that may not be told in the histories of such cities as 
Bagdad, Mecca, Medina, and Constantinople? Would there 
have been any Italian civilization in the Middle Ages without 
Florence, Naples, Venice, Genoa, Pisa, and other cities re¬ 
nowned in song and story? Have not the venerable civiliza¬ 
tions of China and India grown up in thousands of villages and 
cities nameless and unknown to the western world? And what 
of our own time? Does not our own mighty civilization revolve 
about such urban centers as Paris, London, New York, Berlin, 
Moscow, and a host of others? 

It requires no special acumen to understand why the city has 
been the cradle of civilization. Scientists are in sharp disagree¬ 
ment on the question of whether there are any truly inherent 

7 


The story 
of civili¬ 
zation is a 
story of 
cities. 


8 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Why civiliza¬ 
tion has been 
nourished in 
cities 


The city and 
the mental 
development 
of mankind 


Writing 


Mathematics 


qualities in the human mind; but all are agreed that, innate or 
learned as the case may be, those human attributes which we 
call mind are profoundly influenced by environmental factors. 
An isolated individual has scant opportunity to expand his in¬ 
nate qualities or to learn by experience. A person living in a 
pastoral or agricultural state of society is subject to fewer 
stimuli which might develop mental agility than is the person 
living under urban conditions. When large numbers of people 
dwell together in intimate daily contact, conditions are ideal 
for the evocation of whatever capacities human nature may 
possess. The city dweller is continuously subject to innumer¬ 
ably varied stimuli to thought and action; his fund of experi¬ 
ence is immeasurably enriched by his contacts with other per¬ 
sons; he finds ample opportunity for the employment of such 
special talents as he may possess; and he also develops needs 
and desires which an isolated individual could not have. These 
things being true, it is not surprising that the city has been the 
great fountain head of civilization. 

The growth of the mind occurs more readily in the city than 
in the country, not because men will it but because they can¬ 
not help it. Fundamentally the mental equipment of the coun¬ 
try dweller is just as good as that of the city man, but he is not 
surrounded by circumstances which compel him to utilize his 
mental powers as extensively as the city man must in order to 
survive. This explains why the city always leads in intellectual, 
scientific, and aesthetic progress. A few examples will make 
the case plain. 

Nothing has been more fundamental in the advancement of 
civilization than the art of writing. Graphic representation of 
ideas by signs and symbols is as old as the cave man, but sys¬ 
tematic alphabets are almost invariably a product of the city. 
Why? The answer is obvious. Recorded speech is more than 
a convenience in the city; it is a necessity. The hunter or the 
agriculturist, especially under primitive conditions, could get 
along very well without writing, but the city man was forced 
to invent a system of writing in order to carry on the complex 
transactions of city life. The science of mathematics has had a 
similar history. All primitive peoples can count, and some of 
them have developed rude systems of numeration. But mathe¬ 
matics is of city origin. The commercial and technological ac¬ 
tivities of city life demanded mathematics, and the people of 
the cities developed mathematics to meet the demand. In truth 


THE CITY AS A FACTOR IN CIVILIZATION g 

it might be said that virtually all the technological progress of 
mankind has come in response to the urgent demands of city 
life. What need have a pastoral or agricultural people of such 
things as skyscrapers, aqueducts, steam engines, and dynamos? 
What need could such people ever have of the so-called refine¬ 
ments of civilization? 

In the sphere of intellectual creation the story is the same. 
It takes the clash of mind with mind and the stimulation of 
contact with other minds to produce philosophies and systems 
of thought. Contrary to the popular caricature, the philos¬ 
opher is not a recluse. The greatest philosophies the world has 
ever known were evolved on the street-corners of ancient 
Athens. 

The city must also be credited with most of the aesthetic 
achievements of mankind. Talent for drawing, painting, carv¬ 
ing, and making music is found among all primitive peoples; 
but no great art has arisen until they have adopted an urban 
mode of life. Art cannot be produced until conditions are such 
that persons of artistic impulses and abilities can devote them¬ 
selves wholly to artistic work. The division of labor, which is 
a characteristic feature of urban society, makes an artistic 
career possible; no such thing is feasible in pastoral or agricul¬ 
tural society. The refinements of city life create a demand for 
works of art which is certainly not to be found in rural society. 
Furthermore, the city, by facilitating the contact of artist with 
artist, stimulates native artistic impulses and produces com¬ 
parative standards for determining the excellence of artistic 
productions. Only in the city do we find art collections, gal¬ 
leries, museums, monuments, orchestras, operas, choruses, the¬ 
aters, and other things essential to the development of art. 

Education is another requisite of civilization that is pre¬ 
eminently a city product. In rural or pastoral life little educa¬ 
tion is needed in addition to that gained by experience, and 
parental instruction readily supplies what experience does not. 
The range and intensity of city life are such that extensive 
formal education is indispensable. Instruction in the home is 
entirely inadequate for this purpose, and in a rapidly changing 
environment experience is not always the best teacher. The 
city requires specialization in education as in other things, and 
this necessitates teachers, schools, colleges, and universities. 
For whatever these institutions have contributed to the ad¬ 
vancement of humanity the city deserves large credit. 


Technology- 


Philosophy 


Aesthetics 


Education 


10 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Religion 


The city is 
the mainstay 
of civiliza¬ 
tion. 


No ingredient of civilization owes more to the city than re¬ 
ligion. Not that religion originates in the city. Religious 
tendencies are so deeply imbedded in human nature that not 
even the learned doctors of divinity can agree upon the ques¬ 
tion of their origin ; but there can be no doubt at all as to the 
development of religion as a social institution. That is clearly 
a by-product of city life. Organized religious activity revolves 
about the city. Churches, temples, priestly and clerical es¬ 
tablishments all grow out of the conditions of city life, and 
would be impossible in a purely rural state of society. Jesus 
was a countryman, but His ministry took Him to the city, and 
it was in the city that His career reached its climax. The 
Christian church was founded in the city, and its initial prog¬ 
ress was confined almost entirely to urban centers. The letters 
and epistles of Paul were addressed not to country people, but 
to members of the Christian fellowship in such cities as Rome, 
Ephesus, Corinth, Philippi, and Colosse. The spread of Chris¬ 
tianity has been accomplished almost entirely by radiation 
from urban centers. 

The examples just cited not only demonstrate the enormous 
influence of the city in the nurture and advancement of civili¬ 
zation, but they also show that the city is a decisive factor in 
sustaining and perpetuating civilizations. The decline or de¬ 
struction of cities, whatever the cause, has always resulted in 
a decline and decay of civilization. The reason is not far to 
seek. Civilization is a synthetic product, an outgrowth of the 
interaction of complex sociological factors which can operate 
only under urban conditions. A people without cities cannot 
achieve a high civilization; and when the pulse of urban life 
grows weak, civilization languishes and crumbles. No one who 
has studied the rise and fall of the old civilizations can have 
failed to note the coincidence of urban decay and declining civi¬ 
lization. And no one who has observingly followed the course 
of modern civilization can have failed to note the flood and ebb 
of the tide in perfect step with the periodicities of urban prog¬ 
ress. Whatever we are or are to be is irrevocably determined 
by what our cities are or may become. In the city of today 
we have the mainstay of the present order of society and the 
only hope of a better order of society for generations to come. 

One may disagree with the Spenglerian theory of culture 
cycles, but no one will doubt the validity of Spengler’s dictum 
that the city is a prepotent influence in determining the char- 


THE CITY AS A FACTOR IN CIVILIZATION 


II 


acter and destiny of cultures. It may be true, as Spengler con¬ 
tends, that a civilization that has reached what he terms the 
“ megalopolitan ” stage has exhausted its creative power and 
stands already upon the threshold of decline, destined surely 
to take its appointed place among the things which exist only 
in memory. We need not accept this philosophy of gloom, but 
we cannot evade its challenge. Is western civilization now on 
the point of decline? That question will probably be answered 
in the age in which we live. Never before in human history 
has the urbanization of society been as complete as it is today. 
Never before has mankind possessed such means — mechanical, 
intellectual, and social — for the utilization of human poten¬ 
tialities as are found in the modern city. Never before have 
the processes of life been so tremendously accelerated as at 
present. In the light of these circumstances it is a bold prophet 
who would attempt to forecast the future by reference to the 
past. “ It doth not yet appear what we shall be,” but cer¬ 
tainly if we are to catch any glimpses of our destiny we must 
seek them in the city and the study of its problems. 


Selected References 

W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. I, 
Chaps. I, II, III. 

T. H. Reed, Municipal Government in the United States, Chap. I. 

J. G. Thompson, Urbanization, passim. 

J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chaps. I, 

II, III, IV. 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Trace and compare the influence of cities and rural areas upon 
the progress of civilization in your own region. Where were the 
first schools, colleges, libraries, hospitals, theaters, churches, etc., 
established? Who have been the outstanding leaders in your re¬ 
gion in politics, religion, education, technological progress, literature, 
and art — city men or country men? 

2. What has your city contributed to the cultural advancement of 
the area for which it serves as a center? 


The Speng- 
lerian chal¬ 
lenge 


The machine 
age and the 
growth of 
cities 


CHAPTER III 

THE URBANIZATION OF THE MODERN WORLD 

No subject is more fascinating than the role of cities in west¬ 
ern civilization. Though every age has been an age of cities, 
in some periods cities have played the dominant and decisive 
parts, but in others have been relegated to a secondary position. 
The former have been the brilliant and progressive periods of 
history; the latter have been the dark and stagnant ages. Fol¬ 
lowing the shifting scenes of history, our attention is fixed upon 
one group of cities after another until we reach our own time, 
which is characterized by such a plenitude of cities as the 
world never before dreamed of. In former times the drama of 
civilization has been enacted in a few marvelous cities which 
have stood out like beacon lights in a dark night; but in our 
age the number of cities is so great and the proportion of urban 
population to total population has mounted to such heights that 
the dark rural background is almost completely dissolved in 
light. 

The urbanization of the world is one of the most remarkable 
consequences of the so-called Industrial Revolution which has 
been taking place during the past century. Near the beginning 
of the last century an epochal series of inventions and discov¬ 
eries radically transformed the bases of commerce and industry. 
With the advent of the steam engine, the power loom, the rail¬ 
way, the steamboat, and other great scientific developments the 
old domestic handicraft system of industry decayed and disap¬ 
peared. The machine age had arrived. When the power-driven 
machine supplanted hands and tools, industrial workers were 
compelled to find employment in the factory and to take up 
their residence in close proximity to it. The factory thus be¬ 
came a tremendously potent magnet for population. When fac¬ 
tories were located in existing cities, they brought people to 
the cities by the thousands and the millions, and when fac¬ 
tories were located in the open country, cities rapidly grew up 
around them. Contemporaneous with the rise of the factory 


12 


URBANIZATION OF THE MODERN WORLD 


13 


system equally revolutionary developments in the art of trans¬ 
portation made possible the conduct of commercial operations 
on a larger scale than ever before and this, of course, tended to 
increase the population of cities favorably located for purposes 
of trade. The machine age likewise had a profound effect upon 
agriculture. As a result of the development of improved agri¬ 
cultural machinery such as the cotton gin, the mower, the 
reaper, and the thresher, millions of persons whose labor had 
formerly been indispensable to agricultural production were set 
adrift to find employment in commerce and industry. 

The combined effect of these forces was to set in motion a 
tide of migration to the cities which has continued with ever 
increasing efficacy from the early part of the nineteenth cen¬ 
tury down to the present moment. Never before have cities 
grown so rapidly; never before has the number of cities multi¬ 
plied so enormously; never before has the ratio between city 
population and rural population been so completely reversed. 
And the end is not yet. We are now apparently in the midst 
of a process of world-wide urbanization the end of which we 
scarcely dare to prophesy. 

The first country of modern times to become thoroughly 
urbanized was England. According to the census records the 
urban population of England in 1801 was 16.9% of the total; 
by 1851 this proportion had risen to 35%; and by 1921 it had 
reached the astounding figure of 79.3% of the whole popula¬ 
tion. In Germany the process was later in starting, but once 
started went forward with phenomenal speed. As late as 1890 
the urban population of Germany was only 35% of the total 
population; but by 1910 it had risen to 60%, and in 1925 to 
64.3 %} France has lagged considerably behind other Euro¬ 
pean countries in total population growth, but the dynamics of 
population in France exhibit the same tendency toward the con¬ 
centration of population in urban centers. In 1881 the urban 
population of France was 34.8% of the total population of the 
country, in 1911 it was 44.3%, and in 1921 it was 46.9%. In 
other words French cities have been growing even though the 
population of the Republic as a whole has remained stationary. 


The con¬ 
centration of 
population 
in cities 


1 Germany lost some of the most highly urbanized portions of her 
territory as a result of the peace settlement in 1919. Since those territories 
were included in the 1910 census but not in the 1925 census, the figures 
given here do not show the full extent of urban concentration in the 
present territory of Germany between 1910 and 1925 . 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The urban¬ 
ization of the 
United States 


The disap¬ 
pearance of 
the open 
country 


14 

The census reports of all other European countries, including 
even Russia, show the same drift of population toward the 
urban centers. But we need not stop with Europe. Urbani¬ 
zation is the order of the day in Asia, Australia, South America, 
and all other quarters of the globe. 

In our own country the growth of cities has been one of the 
marvels of modem times. The first census of the United States 
in 1790 showed that the urban population of the Union was 
3.3% of the total. By 1850 this had grown to only 12.5%, 
but by 1920 the half-way mark had been passed and the urban 
population of the country was 51.9% of the total. Between 
1910 and 1920 the rural population of the United States was 
increased by 3.1% while the urban population was increased 
by 28.6%; our cities were growing more than nine times as 
rapidly as the country areas. In 1920 fifteen states of the 
Union had more urban population than rural population, and 
the combined population of these fifteen states was more than 
half the population of the whole country. Such figures indi¬ 
cate that some portions of the United States are very highly 
urbanized. The figures for the separate states are surprising. 
The latest census (1920) gives the urban population of Rhode 
Island is 97.5% of the total population of the state; of Massa¬ 
chusetts, 94.8%; of New York, 82.7%; of New Jersey, 78.7%; 
of California, 68%; of Illinois, 67.9%; of Connecticut, 67.8%; 
of Pennsylvania, 64.3%; of New Hampshire, 63.1%; of Michi¬ 
gan, 61.1%; of Maryland, 60%; of Washington, 55.2%; of 
Delaware, 54.2%; and of Indiana, 50.5%. 

The meaning of these statistics is clear. They show that 
on the average five persons out of every ten in this country are 
city dwellers, but that in the most populous states of the Union 
the number of city dwellers ranges up to seven, eight, and nine 
out of every ten. They show further that in the highly urban¬ 
ized sections of the country, as in Massachusetts, New York, 
and New Jersey, the open country in the old sense of the term 
has practically ceased to exist. What is called rural territory 
in these states is simply the interstitial space in a continuous 
network of cities. This territory is not really rural, but is more 
properly speaking suburban. For all practical purposes the 
population of these states is almost wholly urban. This con¬ 
dition is precisely what has been evolved in England and Ger¬ 
many, and what seemingly is destined to take place all over 
the world if the phenomenon of urban growth continues. 


URBANIZATION OF THE MODERN WORLD 


IS 


The natural forces which once operated to check city growth 
have now been largely overcome by modern science and inven¬ 
tion. The provisioning of the city, once a herculean task, has 
been simplified and enormously facilitated by the railway and 
the steamboat. In addition various advances in agriculture and 
industry seem to have removed all visible limits to our ability 
to supply food and other material goods to meet the needs of 
city population. Developments in medicine, sanitation, and 
engineering have put to rout the menace of plague and disease 
which used to mow down city dwellers like wheat in the har¬ 
vest. A city of five million inhabitants may now be a safer 
dwelling place from the point of view of physical well-being 
than the surrounding countryside; and if we should make full 
use of the scientific knowledge we now possess, there is no 
reason why the same thing should not be true of a city of ten 
or fifteen millions. More people now live in New York City 
and its contiguous urban areas than were to be found in the 
entire United States a century ago, and they are better fed, 
better clad, and better housed than was the average American 
of that time. 

In former times the growth of cities was restricted by their 
inability to survive the strains which congestion of population 
placed upon their own social and economic fabric. The hous¬ 
ing of thousands or millions of persons presented almost in¬ 
superable difficulties in the city of centuries ago. With the 
technical knowledge available in those times structures with 
adequate space, light, heat, and sanitary facilities could not be 
built on a restricted area. But if the area of the city was ex¬ 
tended to provide the necessary space, the distances became 
so great as to impede the free flow of the tides and currents of 
urban life. Thus the social and economic solidarity of the 
city was impaired. Great cities, therefore, tended inevitably 
to break down of their own weight. Modern technology and 
the marvelous development of public utility services by the 
application of technical knowledge have changed all this. Steel 
and concrete, together with hydraulic engineering, steam and 
electric power, and other mechanical slaves of the present era, 
enable us to use aerial space as well as ground space for hous¬ 
ing. Trolleys, automobiles, and telephones enable us to sur¬ 
mount the barriers of distance. The modern city may there¬ 
fore build hundreds of feet into the air and at the same time 
sprawl over hundreds of square miles of territory. 


Forces for¬ 
merly 
counteract¬ 
ing city 
growth now 
overcome 


Modern 
science has 
greatly 
facilitated 
the social 
and economic 
processes of 
urban life. 


i6 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


No limits to 
the process 
of urban¬ 
ization 


The urban¬ 
ization of the 
rural districts 


Hence it would appear that there are no definable or pre¬ 
dictable limits to the process of urbanization. It used to be 
supposed that the massing of population in cities was an un¬ 
natural and artificially stimulated phenomenon, and that sooner 
or later a saturation point would be reached. This, it was sup¬ 
posed, would effect a reversal of the concentrative movement 
of population in a stupendous “ back to the land ” movement. 
This fond delusion probably will never be realized. There has 
been a slowing down of the process of concentration in the 
greater urban centers such as London, New York, and Paris, 
but there has been no slackening of the general process of 
urbanization and no “ back to the land ” movement. With 
the slackening of concentration at the center there has come 
an acceleration of concentration at the circumference. Every 
great urban center is now surrounded by an ever-widening circle 
of satellites, and this process of pushing out has now gone so 
far that many portions of the earth are overlaid with a con¬ 
tinuous network of closely connected urban centers. The great 
open spaces are rapidly closing up; in some parts of the world 
they have already become a romantic memory. 

Not the least remarkable feature about this process of urban¬ 
ization is its reaction upon the rural countryside. The country 
is itself becoming urbanized. Automobiles, improved highways, 
telephones, and radios are bringing the city to the country and 
the country to the city. A new chapter in country life is being 
written. The old distinctions between rm and mbs are grad¬ 
ually fading out. Agriculture is becoming a specialized indus¬ 
try, and the economic aspects of rural life are beginning to 
resemble those of the city. The truth is that city and country 
are alike caught in the same web of cosmic forces, and are 
doomed to share the same destiny. The outcome no man can 
foresee, but we know that it will be shaped and determined by 
the ability of the human species to adapt itself to life in the 
great society which is being created by the urbanization of the 
modern world. 


Selected References 

W. Anderson, American City Government, Chap. II. 

W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and, Administration, Vol. I, 
Chap. VI. 

J. G. Thompson, Urbanization, Chaps. I, II. 

J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chap. VI. 


URBANIZATION OF THE MODERN WORLD 


17 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Study the ratio over a period of years between rural and urban 
population in your own state. What shifts have occurred? What 
have been the causes of these shifts? What is the present tendency? 

2. For many years in this and other countries various organiza¬ 
tions devoted to the betterment of rural life have tried to launch a 
“ back to the land ” movement. Do you think the tide of migra¬ 
tion cityward can be reversed simply by making rural life as attrac¬ 
tive as urban life? What factors do you think chiefly influence the 
decisions of people who move from the country to the city or from 
the city to the country? 


CHAPTER IV 


Is the 

“menace” of 
the city real 
or imaginary? 


SOME SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC ASPECTS OF 
URBAN LIFE 

In 1912 Viscount Bryce delivered a rather despairing ad¬ 
dress before the National Conference on Housing in which he 
undertook to explain why “ a great city is a great evil.” His 
indictment included seven counts, which were as follows: (1) 
that the great city is a menace from the point of view of health; 
(2) that it cuts people off from nature and communication with 
nature; (3) that it stratifies population along economic lines; 
(4) that it unduly increases nervous strain and nervous excit¬ 
ability; (5) that it is unfavorable to the best development and 
education of youth; (6) that it is a great danger in a political 
sense; (7) that it results in a deplorable amount of economic 
waste. 

Although Lord Bryce was not a professional alarmist, this 
address was delivered at a time when it was fashionable to 
deplore “ the menace of the city.” There is much less of that 
now than there was fifteen or twenty years ago, but there is 
still a great deal of dubious headshaking when certain phe¬ 
nomena of urban life are mentioned. Are these doubts and 
fears founded on something more than superficial impressions? 
Is the city really a menace, or is it, as certain contemporary 
admirers of the urban way of life contend, the only real hope 
of present-day civilization? That question is perhaps unan¬ 
swerable, but some basis for opinion may be had from a review 
of some of the controversial features of modern city life. 

Superficially, the most striking fact about the modern city 
is its cosmopolitanism. There is no need to delve into statis¬ 
tics for proof of this; abundant evidence may be found on 
every city street. When we are told that the foreign-born 
white population of New York City is 35.4% of the city’s total 
population and that the population of foreign birth or imme¬ 
diate foreign ancestry is 78.6% of the total, we are mathe¬ 
matically convinced; but the astounding heterogeneity of the 

18 


SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC ASPECTS 


19 

city is not apparent until we tread the sidewalks of New York 
and mingle with its people. Then perhaps we should be ready 
to declare that the census data showing that the population of 
New York is composed of sixty different racial elements are 
really quite conservative. The population of New York may 
be somewhat more mixed than that of other American cities, 
but the difference is not so great as is commonly supposed. 
According to the latest census the foreign-born white popula¬ 
tion of San Francisco was 27.5% of the total population of the 
city; and in Denver, far removed from the tides of migration, 
the proportion of foreign-born whites was 15%. None of these 
figures includes Negroes, Chinese, or Japanese. It can be 
seen, therefore, that the city attracts and holds the foreigner, 
and this is just as true in Europe or Asia as it is in America. 
The stranger in a strange land finds in the city opportunity 
for employment and for association with his racial compa¬ 
triots; the rural districts seldom offer him either one of these 
attractions. 

Despite the lugubrious wails of certain self-constituted war¬ 
dens of national security, it is no easy matter to prove that the 
large foreign element in urban population is a necessary and 
unmitigated evil. It is easy to charge the foreigner with re¬ 
sponsibility for most of the ills of the body politic, but it is 
very difficult to assemble facts to prove the case. 

Is the alien responsible for the poverty-stricken slum? If 
so, there should be no slums in cities like London, Dublin, 
Paris, or Naples, where the unassimilated foreign element is 
negligible. Is the alien responsible for crime? If so, the 
Apaches of Paris and the Limehouse gangs of London are 
purely fictitious, the bad man of the old American West was a 
Christian gentleman, and the infamous Hickman of recent 
notoriety must have been a Chinese or an Italian. Is the alien 
responsible for ignorance and illiteracy? If so, the world- 
famous evolution trial must have occurred in New York and 
not in a rural county seat. Is the alien responsible for politi¬ 
cal corruption? If so, it is hard to explain why the persons 
chiefly involved in the recent sensational disclosures in Indiana 
are named Stephenson, McCray, and Jackson; and it certainly 
could not have been Aaron Burr who converted the benevolent 
Society of St. Tammany into a political machine. 

The alien is different, and it is natural for the native popu¬ 
lation to believe the worst of him. In China the foreign 


The cosmo¬ 
politanism of 
the city 


Is the alien 
a menace? 


20 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Problems 
created by 
alien ele¬ 
ments in the 
city 


The foreigner 
assimilates 
the bad as 
well as the 
good in na¬ 
tive life. 


The alien 
may be an 
asset. 


devils ” are believed to be responsible for all the woes of man¬ 
kind, including the freaks of the weather. We are all Chinese 
in this respect, although we might know better if we really- 
wished to know the facts or to believe them when they are 
presented to us. 

The alien does constitute a problem, but this is attributable 
to the prejudice and blind complacence of the native popula¬ 
tion as much as to the shortcomings of the alien himself. The 
alien does live in slums, but he usually gets out just as soon as 
his economic condition will permit. He is often ignorant and 
illiterate; but he has shown a remarkable zest for education, 
and he generally provides his children with a better education 
than he himself possesses. He does often fall into ways of 
crime; but most of the crimes charged to foreigners are not 
committed by immigrants but by the children of immigrants 
whose social habits have been shaped by the native environ¬ 
ment. The alien often plays a part in political corruption; but 
it is usually a minor role in which he is coached arid perfected 
by enterprising native sons. 

Nothing is more nonsensical than the naive assumption that 
the assimilation of the foreigner will result in his absorption of 
only the good in na'tive life. If the foreigner is to absorb only 
the good, he must be raised above the level of native life, and 
this cannot be accomplished by flag-waving and mayhem. 
And as for the city’s being a menace because of the hetero¬ 
geneity of its population, it is nothing like the menace that 
would exist if the alien elements were concentrated largely in 
the rural districts. The city can and does assimilate, but in 
the rural districts the foreigner is likely to be isolated and not 
subject to influences making for assimilation. If we wish to 
Balkanize America, the quickest and easiest way to do it is to 
settle all our foreign immigrants in the country districts instead 
of in the cities. That is precisely how the racial crazy-quilt in 
the Balkans was created. The admission of large numbers of 
aliens into a country may or may not be a sound national 
policy; but if they are admitted, they should certainly be 
settled, as far as possible, in the cities. The city is the only 
channel through which they can be assimilated. 

Fairness should compel us to admit that the alien may be an 
asset as well as a liability. He contributes considerably more 
than manual labor to the upbuilding of native society. Con¬ 
tact with alien cultures varies, enriches, and stimulates the so- 


SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC ASPECTS 2I 

cial processes of native life. The native learns almost as much 
from the foreigner as the foreigner learns from the native. The 
foreigner usually possesses more than the average amount of 
energy and ambition or he would have been unwilling to face 
the precarious hardships of migration. Nor is the mixing of 
alien with native blood a thing to be wholly deplored. Racial 
purity is a romantic fiction. Ethnologists are agreed that all 
the so-called races of man are of mixed origin, and that the 
mixing of racial strains produces superior types as often as 
inferior ones. No phenomenon has been more common in his¬ 
tory than the reinvigoration of a decadent race by a liberal 
admixture of alien blood. 

Bryce’s dictum that the city is a menace from the point of 
view of health long stood unchallenged. Vital statistics could 
always be summoned to prove the case, and few people care to 
argue against statistics. Statistics have almost invariably 
shown that the urban death rate is higher than that of the 
rural districts, and likewise the amount of disease and physi¬ 
cal incapacitation. In so far as these conditions could be at¬ 
tributed to unpreventable causes they did support the thesis 
that the city was fundamentally a menace to health. But the 
science of public health has made such enormous strides dur¬ 
ing the last fifty years that we may now confidently look for¬ 
ward to the time when health conditions in the city will be as 
good as in the country, and possibly even better. Some au¬ 
thorities believe that time has already arrived. Dr. Carl E. 
McCombs, writing in the National Municipal Review in June, 
1 9 2 3, makes the dogmatic statement that whatever the relative 
physical vigor of rural against urban population, the rural 
population suffers more from preventable diseases than the 
urban. And Professor W. B. Munro in the latest edition of 
his volume on The Government of American Cities argues that 
the “ superiority of rural over urban physique in the United 
States, if it exists at all, is certainly not very large. If the city 
is at a disadvantage in this matter, it is so slight as to be 
virtually negligible. The figures certainly do not afford any 
proof that city life is physically debilitating.” These eminent 
students of urban society do not share Bryce’s pessimism. 

Why should the city not compare favorably with the coun¬ 
try in health? Sanitation is now able to overcome practically 
all the evil consequences of congestion. Improved recreational 
facilities offer the city man almost as good an opportunity for 


The public 
health prob¬ 
lem in the 
city 


22 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The city 
can control 
the factors 
affecting pub¬ 
lic health. 


The alleged 
danger of 
congested 
living con¬ 
ditions 


physical development as his country cousin has. The drink¬ 
ing water of the city is now as pure and wholesome as that of 
the country. The food supply of the city offers as much in 
quantity and variety as that of the country, if not more, and 
far more precaution is taken in the city in the matter of cleanli¬ 
ness. The dangers of industrial accident and disease have been 
enormously reduced by safety and sanitary measures. Com¬ 
municable diseases are more promptly checked and efficiently 
controlled in the city than in the country. Institutional care 
of the afflicted is more highly perfected in the city than in the 
country. Free medical and dental services are more widely 
available in the city than in the country. And as for the wear 
and tear of city life and its debilitating effects upon the nerv¬ 
ous system (a point especially emphasized by Bryce), the 
tensity of country life today is about as great as that of the 
city. If there is any difference, it is possibly in favor of the city, 
because the city affords more opportunity for relaxation, both 
physical and mental. 

One thing, however, should be eternally remembered. The 
healthfulness of the country is a gift of God; that of the city 
has been bought at a price. To achieve it men have had to 
sink their differences, sacrifice their independence, and, through 
arbitrary and often autocratic social authority, have had to 
bring into play the full resources of science. To maintain it we 
shall have to continue to pay that price as long as cities shall 
endure. 

Another feature of urban life that has come in for a full 
round of alarmed deprecation is its congested conditions of 
living. The number of inhabitants to a given unit of area or 
cubic space is so great that one might suppose city people are 
packed together like rabbits in a hutch. From a purely statis¬ 
tical point of view this is true; but why should it be regarded 
as a terrible evil? If one compare the conditions in the 
Bleecker Street section of New York with those of a lovely 
farming region, the city looks like a social cancer; but if one 
compare the Park Avenue section of New York, where the con¬ 
gestion is but slightly less than in Bleecker Street, the city 
suffers little, if any, by the contrast. And if one compare any 
section of any city with the wretched hovels and shacks which 
house a large part of the farming population of this or any 
other country, the city appears much superior. Congestion of 
population certainly is evil when it occurs without adequate 


SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC ASPECTS 


2 3 

provision for light, air, sanitation, and privacy; but when the 
reverse is true, there is little to be alarmed about. 

Some persons deplore the vogue of the multiple dwelling 
(apartment houses, tenement buildings, and the like) in our 
cities as though there were something inherently evil about it. 
But if all the conditions essential to physical and moral well¬ 
being are satisfied, does it make any real difference whether 
people are separated by walls and floors or by a certain number 
of cubic yards of atmosphere? From an economic point of 
view the multiple dwelling certainly has pronounced advan¬ 
tages. From the point of view of cost of land, cost of construc¬ 
tion, economy and efficiency of public utility services, it is much 
more economical to house a hundred families under one roof 
than under a hundred roofs. There are probably other ad¬ 
vantages, too. The householder saves much time, for he is 
relieved of the care and upkeep of the property. It is probable, 
also, that the average standard of housing is better in any 
given level of society where the multiple dwelling is in vogue 
than where the single detached dwelling is the prevailing 
mode. 

It is safe not to dogmatize; and therefore we will say that 
whether the multiple dwelling produces a better or a worse state 
of society, it does result in some interesting developments. 
For instance, it plays havoc with the old-fashioned American 
virtue of home-ownership. According to orthodox political 
doctrine, home-ownership is an unfailing mark of good citizen¬ 
ship. If that is true, good citizenship is destined for a great 
slump in our large cities. Except under some form of coopera¬ 
tive ownership, the multiple dwelling makes home-ownership 
impossible for the average family, and cooperative ownership 
has not yet reached the point where it has many attractions 
for the average man. Deploring this condition will not help it. 
The multiple dwelling has come to stay. It has, in fact, become 
a necessity in modern city life, and we may as well adapt our¬ 
selves to it. If it is true that people who do not own their 
homes are susceptible to the worst evils of social and political 
demoralization, then the future of modern society is very dark 
indeed. It is possible, however, to imagine civic loyalty and 
idealism based upon something less tangible but more altruis¬ 
tic than a material abode. It is possible even to fancy that 
attachment to the common welfare may be stimulated by lack 
of attachment to a definite homesite. The trends of social 


The multiple 
dwelling 


The multiple 
dwelling 
changes the 
distribution 
of home 
ownership. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Family life 
in the city 


Society must 
assume many 
of the duties 
of the family. 


The future 
of the urban 
family 


24 

legislation in modern cities lend weight to the belief that this 
is more than idle speculation. 

The effects of congestion upon the health of city populations 
have already been discussed, and the effects upon morals will 
be treated later. 

Of all the consequences of urbanization none has been more 
universally descried than the disintegration of the family. The 
rural family, at least in former times, was a powerful social 
and economic entity and a vital force in education, morals, and 
religion. In the modern city the influence of the family is pro¬ 
foundly altered. Because of the difficulty of owning a home, 
the family rarely becomes attached to the soil; the city family 
is more or less constantly on the move. Life in tenements and 
apartments is not favorable to the centralization of social life 
in the family, and this is accentuated by the fact that the at¬ 
tractions of city life in the way of recreation and amusement 
inevitably draw people away from the family circle. Nor is 
the city family united by the necessity of working together to 
obtain a living. The pressure of economic necessity in the city 
forces the members of the family to find employment outside 
the family in trade and industry; and though the earnings of 
the various members of the family may serve a common pur¬ 
pose, they are not bound together by similar economic interests 
and experiences, as is true on the farm. 

As a result of these things the city family no longer per¬ 
forms effectively the functions which tradition assigns to the 
family. As an agency for social and moral instruction, it some¬ 
times fails completely. It likewise breaks down as an eco¬ 
nomic unit. The problem of poverty, for example, was once 
largely a family problem; the care of unfortunate and depend¬ 
ent persons was a family responsibility. Nowadays this re¬ 
sponsibility rests largely upon society. So it is with many 
other responsibilities that formerly reposed in the family. The 
urban family cannot perform these responsibilities because it 
has so largely lost its effectiveness as a means of social control. 

It would be a mistake to conclude, however, that the urban 
family is degenerate; it is far from that. The urban family has 
perhaps just as much that is ennobling as the rural family; but 
the situation of the urban family is such that it does not serve 
society in the same way as the rural family, and hence there is 
much for society to do in the city that is not necessary in the 
country. In the end urban conditions may give birth to a new 


SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC ASPECTS 


25 

type of family, not inferior to the rural family, but different. 
The cohesive element in the rural family is a community of in¬ 
terest that is largely material. In the urban family this com¬ 
munity of material interests grows constantly less. Perhaps it 
will be replaced by a community of interest that is essentially 
spiritual and intellectual. If so, the gain to the individual will 
be great, and society in the long run will not suffer. Still an¬ 
other possibility that is not always kept in mind is that the dis¬ 
integration of the family in urban society may have the effect 
of counteracting that spirit of particularism which is one of the 
chief obstacles to progress in rural society. The absorption of 
the countryman in the narrow interests of the family and its 
more immediate contacts tends to render him blind to the com¬ 
munity and its interests. The interests of the city man are 
in the community as well as the family, and in course of time 
may build up a spirit of devotion to the community which will 
further the advancement of the race quite as much as devotion 
to the family. 

The economic status of the average individual in the city as 
compared with that of the average inhabitant of the rural dis¬ 
tricts presents some interesting and illuminating contrasts. In 
the country the ownership of tangible property is an almost 
universal fact. In the city the ownership of property, at least 
of tangible property, is a phenomenon of increasing rarity. The 
average urbanite owns no land and no tangible chattels, except 
possibly his clothing and household effects. The burdens of 
owning and caring for property in the city are such that the 
average city dweller strives to avoid those encumbrances as far 
as practicable. Consequently the ownership of land, buildings, 
and other forms of tangible property is concentrated in a rela¬ 
tively small number of individuals or corporations, and the 
great mass of people are property less. This does not mean that 
the city man is less prosperous than his rural compatriot. The 
city man may own intangible securities that are equivalent in 
value to the property owned by the countryman. But even 
though he owns absolutely nothing except his personal effects, 
the city man’s economic situation compares favorably with that 
of the countryman. His income is just as good or better on the 
average; he satisfies his economic wants just as fully; and he 
takes care of his obligations to dependents by insurance. Com¬ 
parisons between the wage-earner in the city and the wage- 
earner on the farm generally favor the city man. The same 


The economic 
peculiarities 
of urban so¬ 
ciety 


26 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Does the 
city man lose 
contact with 
nature? 


thing is true of comparisons between the farm proprietor and 
the salaried, professional, or business classes of the city. 

But regardless of the fact that the economic status of the ur¬ 
banite is just as good as that of the country dweller, or better, 
we are obliged to recognize that it is fundamentally different. 
The city man occupies, as compared with his country cousin, a 
position of economic dependence. The city man as a rule is a 
hired employee and holds his job subject to the caprices of other 
persons. The roof over his head is not his own. The tools, ma¬ 
chinery, or things used by him in his daily grind do not belong to 
him. His securities, if he saves money and invests in them, be¬ 
long to him, but he has very little voice in the management of 
the properties which determine their value. He protects himself 
and his dependents by insurance, but he has little to do with the 
actual management of the insurance company in which he holds 
a policy. t In other words, though he may be the captain of his 
own soul, he is not the master of his own fate, and he has be¬ 
come acutely conscious of this fact. This undoubtedly explains 
the insistent demand in our cities for governmental policies of a 
paternalistic character. The doctrine of laissez jaire may be 
satisfactory for a rural economy, but it is suicidal for the city. 
A person who is economically self-sufficient (and the farmer is 
self-sufficient as compared with the average man in the city) 
feels little need of governmental assistance; but once let him 
lose his position of independence, and he cries aloud for help. 
When the shoe pinches the farmer, his zeal for paternalism is 
second to none; but the shoe pinches the farmer only once in a 
while, whereas the city dweller is subject to some kind of 
pinching almost constantly. . 

Lord Bryce’s complaint that the large city removes people 
from nature and communication with nature is certainly in 
accord with the facts. That shortcoming is being somewhat 
remedied, however, by the automobile and other means of 
rapid transit which enable the inhabitant of the city to get out 
into the country easily and inexpensively. Furthermore, mod¬ 
ern park and playground developments are bringing nature to 
the city. Nevertheless there is no substitute for country life, 
and the urbanite can never hope to have that intimate contact 
with nature that is possible in the country. It may be said in 
defense of the city that outdoor nature is only one phase of 
nature, and that human nature is presumably almost as im¬ 
portant and as well worth knowing as brooks, fields, trees, and 


SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC ASPECTS 


27 


birds. The advantages of the city in bringing one into con¬ 
tact and communication with human nature are quite as pro¬ 
nounced as those of the country in respect to outdoor nature. 
Perhaps the urbanite gains almost as much as he loses. 

With regard to the charges that the city results in the strati¬ 
fication of population along economic lines and that it promotes 
economic waste, it is difficult not to lose patience altogether. 
The worst caste systems the world has ever known have grown 
up in agricultural society. Until comparatively recent times 
the aristocracy of Lord Bryce’s own country was almost ex¬ 
clusively a country aristocracy based upon ownership of land. 
The stratification of population in London and other British 
cities has never even approached the rigidity and permanence 
of that found in the country shires. And as for the promotion 
of economic waste, it is hard to understand how any one with 
any practical experience in agriculture could honestly argue 
that city life and city industrial processes are any more waste¬ 
ful than those of the country. If any industry in the world is 
prodigally wasteful of time, capital, labor, materials, and every¬ 
thing else, it is the farming industry. The average farmer has 
yet to learn the meaning of scientific management, a fact which 
partially accounts for his economic distress. 

The subject of political corruption in the city has received 
extended and sensational treatment at the hands of every com¬ 
mentator on urban society. The conditions are bad, and cannot 
be disguised or defended on any ground whatsoever. But when 
one attempts to use the city as the world’s worst example of 
political corruption, he is ignoring a great many well-known 
facts. The “ rotten boroughs ” of England before the Reform 
Act of 1832 were in the main country constituencies. Political 
corruption is known to be rampant among the prevailingly 
rural populations of Russia and China, and many instances of 
rural corruption have been discovered in other countries. In 
the United States the county is conceded by all reputable po¬ 
litical scientists to be the “ dark continent ” of American poli¬ 
tics, and the disclosures which have been made in recent years 
of the wholesale bribery of rural voters in such states as Ohio, 
Delaware, Rhode Island, New York, and Illinois indicate that 
the countryman is no more immune from the contamination of 
political corruption than his urban compatriot. “ Human na¬ 
ture,” as Mark Twain once sagely remarked, “ is very strong, 
and we all have a heap of it in us.” 


The question 
of the strati¬ 
fication of 
urban society 


Political 
corruption in 
the city 


28 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Moral con¬ 
ditions in 
the city 


The city 
affords 
greater 
opportunities 
for crime. 


The ameliora¬ 
tive influ¬ 
ences of city 
life 


Undoubtedly the most serious charge made against the city 
by critics of urbanization is that it weakens and destroys the 
moral fiber of the people, and furnishes an unwholesome en¬ 
vironment for the upbringing of youth. The pages of current 
literature are full of jeremiads in which the city is denounced 
as a veritable cesspool of vice, crime, and depravity. Statistics 
show that the amount of crime and vice occurring in the city 
is enormous. We have no comparable statistics for the country, 
and so are unable to make comparisons. Unfortunately our 
statistics fail to show what proportion of the crime and vice 
occurring in the city is to be ascribed to persons of lax morals 
who have migrated from the country to the city. It is impos¬ 
sible, therefore, to say which is inherently the greater breeder 
of crime and vice, the city or the country. Nor do the avail¬ 
able statistics enable us to classify the moral lapses of city and 
country populations with reference to whether they indicate 
innate moral depravity or are simply the result of failure to 
comply with certain of the numberless statutory enactments of 
the present day, which, though necessary from the point of view 
of public policy, are not founded upon fundamental ethical 
considerations. In the light of these deficiencies in the only 
quantitative data we possess how can any one safely and con¬ 
fidently dogmatize with regard to the relative morality of city 
and country? 

It is obvious, of course, that the city affords more opportunity 
for the predatory activities of the professional criminal than 
does the country, and likewise that the crowds of the city facili¬ 
tate the concealment of crimes and criminals. This is why 
the city attracts the rural criminal. It is also true that urban 
and rural standards of morality often vary enormously, and 
that what one may consider entirely innocuous the other deems 
utterly immoral. But this proves nothing except that the con¬ 
ventions of society differ according to environment. It is prob¬ 
ably true, too, that the difficulties of law enforcement are much 
greater in the city than in the country, but this usually may 
be explained by the fact that the legal and judicial machinery 
used in the city are ill suited to city conditions. 

Before leaving this topic it is only fair to point out that, 
whatever the relative morality of city and country, the world’s 
sublimest efforts to ennoble and uplift humanity are centered 
in the city. Organized altruism has its headquarters in the city 
and radiates power from city to country. The strongest reli- 


SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC ASPECTS 


29 

gious institutions and the most potent reform organizations are 
invariably found in the city. Without the support which comes 
from the city the country church would be doomed to extinction. 
Without the leaders who, if not born in the city, are almost 
without exception trained in the city practically all movements 
for social and moral amelioration would quickly wither and 
disappear. 

The youth of the city may be exposed to degrading influences 
which do not exist in the country, but they are also surrounded 
by elevating influences which do not exist in the country. Re¬ 
cent surveys of vice conditions in rural districts indicate, fur¬ 
thermore, that the youth of the country are exposed to degrad¬ 
ing influences which do not exist in the city, particularly in 
sexual vices. On the whole the city youth would seem to have 
about as good a chance to come up clean and idealistic as the 
country youth. 

In concluding this brief survey of the social and economic 
aspects of urban life there is one basic fact to be noted. Urban 
life may be superior or it may be inferior to rural life. Be that 
as it may. There is no doubt, however, that urban life attaches 
far more importance to social well-being, as contrasted with in¬ 
dividual well-being, than country life does. In the city the 
welfare of the individual is much more closely bound up with 
and dependent upon the welfare of society as a whole than in 
the country. The significance of this is that the general urban¬ 
ization of modern society calls for more thoroughgoing social 
processes and more highly perfected means of social manage¬ 
ment and social control than have been necessary in any previ¬ 
ous stage of the world’s history. And this merely means that 
the problem of the city, and hence the problem of civilization, 
is today more emphatically than ever before a problem of 
government. 


Selected References 

W. Anderson, American City Government, Chap. I. 

N. Anderson and E. C. Lindeman, Urban Sociology, Chap. IV. 

W. B. Munro, The Government of American Cities (4th ed.), Chap. 
III. 

W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. I, 
Chap. VII. 

J. G. Thompson, Urbanization, Chaps. XIX, XX, XXI, XXV. 

J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chap. VII. 


Urban life 
more highly 
socialized 
than rural 
life 


30 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. What is the proportion of foreign-born population in your city? 
In what ways do you think your city would gain or lose if these 
alien elements should be removed? 

2. Can you adduce any evidence to show whether your city is 
more or less healthful than the surrounding rural territory? If there 
are any differences, how do you account for them? 

3. Locate what you consider to be the worst and the best housing 
conditions in your city. What are the causes of these contrasting 
conditions? Compare the best and the worst you have seen in the 
city with the best and the worst you have seen in the country. 

4. Enumerate the things which are being done by governmental 
agencies in your city, but which in the surrounding country would 
be left to the family. From the point of view of the welfare of 
yourself or of those nearest to you would you like to see the gov¬ 
ernment relinquish those activities? 

5. Do you think city people are more radical on economic ques¬ 
tions than country people? How could such differences be explained? 

6. What are some causes of lawlessness, crime, and immorality? 
Do you find any reason to believe that these causes operate more 
powerfully in the city than in the country? Can you find any 
reason to suppose that some types of crime and immorality might 
be peculiar to the city and others peculiar to the country? 


CHAPTER V 

SOME POLITICAL ASPECTS OF URBANIZATION 

In the year 1900 no man had seen an airplane; very few had 
seen the wheezy and dubious contraption then negatively 
called the “ horseless carriage the moving picture was still a 
toy; except for a few experimenters no one dreamed of the 
possibilities of wireless telegraphy and radio communication; 
the phonograph was still a novelty; electrical science was yet 
in its infancy, its most considerable accomplishments — the 
electric light, the telephone, and the trolley car—in 1900 
just coming into universal favor. Despite the fact that the 
mechanization of industry and the development of railways 
had started human society on the road to urbanization, the 
spirit of the time was essentially rural. For many generations 
human society had proceeded upon the principle of individual 
responsibility for individual welfare. The rightful business of 
society was to provide for national security, maintain internal 
order, secure the administration of justice between man and 
man, and carry on certain necessary financial operations. Be¬ 
yond this each individual was expected to look out for himself: 
his health, morals, safety, prosperity, convenience, and comfort 
were regarded as being entirely in his own keeping. 

The principle of individual responsibility for individual wel¬ 
fare was a natural and necessary by-product of a rustic order 
of society. Under a rural economy it is possible for the in¬ 
dividual to control most of the factors which affect his food 
supply, his personal security, his employment, his comfort and 
convenience, and his bodily and spiritual welfare in general. 
Life is hard for all; but society can do very little to ameliorate 
conditions, because society has even less control over the fac¬ 
tors conditioning individual welfare than has the individual 
himself. Under an urban economy all this is changed. In¬ 
dividual self-sufficiency gives place to individual helplessness 
and dependency. Under city conditions food, clothing, shelter, 
light, heat, employment, recreation, and practically every other 

31 


The old politi¬ 
cal order 


The old 
order breaks 
down under 
urban con¬ 
ditions. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The political 
significance 
of the new 
day 


32 

essential or valuable thing in life must be procured through the 
operation of complex social processes which no individual can 
control or materially influence. The individual finds himself a 
helpless cog in a vast social mechanism, and in his helplessness 
he turns to organized society — to government — for protection 
and assistance. Government has the power and the means to 
control the social processes which determine individual welfare; 
and therefore everybody’s business becomes the government’s 
business, and the government’s business becomes everybody’s 
business. The venerable doctrine of laissez jaire, untenable 
in a society where every man’s elbow touches another man’s 
elbow, is consigned to the limbo of forgotten things; and the 
famous dictum of Tom Paine that the best government is that 
which governs least is supplanted by the conviction that no 
government is good unless it governs much and mightily. 

Political dogmas generally follow at a safe distance behind 
the facts of life, and millions of people have therefore clung 
to the laissez jaire doctrine in the face of an ever-rising tide 
of paternalism. Not until the complete annihilation of the old 
order of society by the revolutionary technological develop¬ 
ments of the twentieth century, not until the overwhelming im¬ 
pact of an almost wholly urbanized and mechanized society had 
destroyed almost every vestige of individual control over the 
conditioning factors of human well-being, did the political sig¬ 
nificance of the new day become clearly apparent. It is as 
plain as a pikestaff now, for the teachings of experience cannot 
be ignored. Modern urban society requires and demands gov¬ 
ernmental intervention and control, governmental aid and regu¬ 
lation, in virtually every phase of life, from the most trivial to 
the most transcendent. From the cradle to the grave, from 
birth certificate to death certificate, scarcely a breath may be 
drawn by any individual without involving him in some way 
and in some degree with the all-inclusive and all-pervasive 
sweep of the governmental process. Government is the cus¬ 
todian of the health of the people, the censor of their morals, 
the instructor of their young, the guardian of their property, 
the regulator of their occupations, the supervisor of their busi¬ 
ness, the protector of their rights, the arbiter of their differ¬ 
ences, and the author of their duties. It looks after the teeth 
and tonsils of the children as well as their education; it exacts 
contributions from those who have, and bestows largess upon 
those who have not; it dominates the realm of the flesh and 


POLITICAL ASPECTS 


33 

reaches into the realm of the spirit, even saying what may not 
be done in the name of religious worship. The way of all flesh 
in this modern world is a way mapped out very largely by gov¬ 
ernmental prescription and patrolled by governmental agents. 

The simple meaning of all this is that urbanization has ex¬ 
alted the role of government to the degree where nearly all 
social questions tend to become political questions, and that 
political questions are the most vital of all questions. More¬ 
over, the integration of human society, which is one of the 
principal consequences of urbanization, has resulted in such an 
enormous complication of the problems of government that in¬ 
stead of being the simplest of all questions, political questions 
have come to be the most perplexing known to modern society. 
It would take a bulky treatise to discuss all of the political con¬ 
sequences of urbanization, but it is necessary to understand a 
few of them in order to have a clear perception of the nature of 
the social system of which we are part. 

Not the least significant aspect of urbanization, from the 
political point of view, is the constantly growing crop of new 
problems that government is called upon to solve. The col¬ 
umns of our newspapers and magazines seldom fail nowadays 
to contain an article or two dealing with the parking problem. 
Twenty years ago not even the. verb “ to park ” existed. This 
problem is part of the traffic problem, and the traffic problem 
is a product of the motorization of modern urban society. Simi¬ 
larly we hear of the zoning problem, the recreation problem, 
the hospital problem, the housing problem, the child hygiene 
problem, the child labor problem, the public utility problem, 
the vocational guidance problem, and scores of others so new 
that the average citizen hardly knows what they are about. 
Every passing year and every new invention and discovery adds 
to the already long list of novel and baffling problems which 
society, through its political processes, must undertake to solve. 

Not only has urbanization created many new problems; it 
has enormously multiplied the difficulty of the older ones. 
Take for example the improvement and maintenance of streets 
and highways. This problem offered difficulties enough in the 
old days, but now, with the prodigious demands upon our thor¬ 
oughfares that tremendous concentration of population in urban 
centers brings, the highways problem has become a veritable 
morass of formidable difficulties. The same thing may be said 
of the police problem. The police have to deal not only with 


The new 
importance 
of political 
questions 


The new 
problems of 
government 


The new 
complexity 
of old prob¬ 
lems 


34 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The growing 
importance 
of adminis¬ 
tration 


Bureaucracy 
the inevitable 
concomitant 
of urban¬ 
ization 


many new crimes (automobile stealing, traffic offenses, and 
sanitary offenses, for example), but also have to cope with 
criminals equipped with all the aids that modern science can 
supply to facilitate their nefarious operations. The same mul¬ 
tiplication of complexity and difficulty may be observed in the 
problems of public finance. The old bases of taxation have 
become inadequate and unjust; the old methods of procedure 
have become entirely inappropriate; and the old objects of pub¬ 
lic outlay and expenditure now cover only a small part of the 
necessary undertakings of government. All in all it may be 
said that urbanization, more than any other single cause, is 
responsible for the baffling intricacy of the problems which 
confront our various governmental agencies at the present time. 
When life is simple, government is simple; when life is com¬ 
plex, government is equally complex. Urban life is always 
complex, and has grown increasingly so through modern tech¬ 
nological developments. 

Another significant outgrowth of the urban age is the rapidly 
growing importance of administration. In a rural society the 
administrative phases of the governmental process are of sec¬ 
ondary importance, for there is not much for government to 
administer. The administration of justice through the courts, 
the administration of the various agencies and organizations 
having to do with public security, the collection of taxes, and 
the disbursement of funds — these and perhaps a few others 
comprise the principal administrative functions of government 
in rural society. But urbanization necessitates paternalism, 
and paternalism requires a vast horde of administrative func¬ 
tionaries to perform the innumerable duties incident to the 
supervision or supervention of private enterprise. To regulate 
and control public service companies calls for a huge army of 
governmental inspectors, experts, and technicians of all kinds; 
to take over, own, and operate public utilities calls for an even 
larger retinue of bureaucrats. Factory legislation for the pro¬ 
tection of the health and safety of the workers and consumers 
cannot be enforced without a host of governmental function¬ 
aries to inspect, report, and prosecute. Public parks and recrea¬ 
tion grounds are worse than useless unless manned by a staff 
of trained specialists. Public institutions for education, for 
the care of the deficient and underprivileged classes, or for the 
assistance of agriculture, commerce, and industry will not run 
themselves; they must be staffed and managed by a huge array 


POLITICAL ASPECTS 


35 

of public employees. So it is with all governmental enterprises. 
The more government undertakes to do for the people, the 
more it is obliged to emphasize administration and develop 
administrative machinery. Senator James A. Reed of Mis¬ 
souri has achieved a picturesque prominence in American poli¬ 
tics by his vehement denunciations of “ public snoopers but 
he is tilting against windmills. Modern urban society expects 
and demands of its government one thing above all else: serv¬ 
ice— more service — and yet more service. Do away with 
“ snoopers ” and you do away with all possibility of service. 
“ Snooping ” is nothing more than the exercise of the inquisi¬ 
torial function of government, and that is absolutely indis¬ 
pensable to efficient administration. 

The urbanization of modern society has raised the problem 
of administration from a minor to a major place in public af¬ 
fairs. We may wish it were possible to return to the simple 
and idyllic days when life could proceed without the vigilant 
and often vexing attentions of a miscellaneous swarm of over- 
officious beadles; but in order to do that we should have to 
destroy our present economic system, depopulate our cities, and 
utterly denature our civilization. The problem we must face 
today is not one of going back but of going forward, of purify¬ 
ing, perfecting, and democratizing the hulking, lumbering bu¬ 
reaucracy which the exigencies of modern urban civilization 
have called into being. A contemporary political scientist has 
said, “ Administration is the cutting edge of democracy.” That 
is the statement of an ideal and not of a fact. One of the great 
problems of the present day is the development of a science and 
a technique of public administration which will transform that 
ideal into a reality. 

We seldom think of urbanization as being connected with 
the continuous metamorphosis of political issues or with the 
relation of political parties to traditional issues; but it is pos¬ 
sible to discover a very close correlation at times between 
the progress of urbanization and the permutations of poli¬ 
tics. Take for example the tariff question. Almost from the 
beginning the southern states of the American Union have 
been implacably opposed to the protective tariff; but in many 
sections of the South there has come in recent years such a 
complete reversal of opinion that the candidate of the Demo¬ 
cratic party in 1928 virtually abandoned the historic position 
of his party on the tariff question. What has happened? Sim- 


The need for 
a new science 
of public 
administra¬ 
tion 


Urban¬ 
ization 
metamor¬ 
phoses politi¬ 
cal issues. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


36 

ply this: the industrialization and urbanization of certain parts 
of the South have undermined the rural economy which used to 
identify its interest with a low tariff. Similarly we find that 
there is taking place at the present time a progressive realign¬ 
ment on the historic question of states’ rights. Formerly it was 
the urban sections of the country that stood for the enlarge¬ 
ment of national authority and the rural sections that espoused 
the cause of states’ rights. Now the urban sections are raising 
a clamor about the unwarranted invasion of the reserved rights 
of the states by the federal government, and the rural sections 
are demanding extensions of federal power and authority. 
Why such paradoxical somersaulting? There is no mystery 
about it. The urban population of the country objects to na¬ 
tional action in dealing with the liquor traffic, with corporation 
management, and other social and economic problems of the 
present day because of a conviction that national action is not 
considerate of the “ special interests ” of the urban portions of 
the population; and the rural sections are demanding national 
action on these questions because of a feeling,that their “ special 
interests ” require it. Foreign policy is another phase of poli¬ 
tics that is bound to be much affected by urbanization. It goes 
without saying that the foreign policies favored by an urban¬ 
ized country, or by the urbanized sections of a country, are 
bound to be profoundly different from those favored by rural 
peoples. The internal pressure of population and the exigen¬ 
cies of trade and industry impel urban peoples to embark upon 
foreign policies that have no appeal for the agrarian mind. 
Rural peoples are inclined to be self-contained and but slightly 
interested in external affairs; urban peoples are of necessity 
forced to be concerned about foreign relations. The alignment 
of the American people on such questions as cancellation of 
foreign debts, the World Court, the League of Nations, or 
naval limitations furnishes a most instructive illustration of 
this fact. 

So we might continue to enumerate the effects of urbaniza¬ 
tion upon the processes of government and politics; but this 
resume is not intended to be complete. Its purpose is, by de¬ 
scribing some of the political consequences of urbanization, to 
suggest many others, and to leave with the reader a clear ap¬ 
preciation of the profound significance of urbanization from 
the point of view of government and governmental problems. 
One remaining point deserves special mention. That is the 


POLITICAL ASPECTS 


37 

effect of urbanization upon the problem of governing the city 
itself. 

City government has always been a formidable and baf¬ 
fling problem. In ancient and mediaeval times this problem 
was for the most part a matter of concern only to the city itself, 
for every self-governing city was in those times a distinct sov¬ 
ereign entity — a republic, a monarchy, the head of an empire 
— and hence was not subject to any superior political author¬ 
ity. The cities of modern times are simply component parts of 
great national states, and are self-governing only in the sense 
that they are permitted by the grace of the supreme national 
authority to manage certain of their own local affairs. In an¬ 
cient and mediaeval times there could be no question of the 
juridical relation of the city to the sovereign central govern¬ 
ment, because every city was either sovereign itself or an ab¬ 
ject vassal of some other city or ruling potentate. 

In the early history of national states the problem of munici¬ 
pal government was not of great consequence, because the total 
number of cities was not great and the aggregate urban popula¬ 
tion was small as compared with the total population of the 
state. It was easy, therefore, for the central government to 
deal with each city separately, and to employ in each case such 
measures as expediency might dictate. All cities were subject 
to the supreme central authority, having no independent powers 
as of right; but the central authorities, as a matter of conven¬ 
ience and political expediency, were accustomed to concede to 
each city a certain amount of local autonomy. With the rapid 
and extensive progress of urbanization, however, the total num¬ 
ber of cities and the aggregate urban population became so 
great that the policy of dealing with each city as a separate and 
distinct problem was no longer wise or practicable. It was 
absolutely necessary to have a uniform and consistent policy 
to determine the relation of cities to the central government, 
and to base this relationship upon sound principles of politics 
and administration. Otherwise neither good city government 
nor good national government could be achieved. If the de¬ 
termination of such vital matters as the nature and scope of 
municipal powers or the form and organization of city govern¬ 
ment is to be settled for each city separately, according to the 
dictates of expediency as viewed by successive corps of central 
officials, municipal government will eventuate in nothing but 
chaos and confusion, and the machinery of the central govern- 


Urban- 
ization and 
city govern¬ 
ment 


Urban¬ 
ization 
creates need 
for general 
policies as to 
city govern¬ 
ment. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


38 

ment will be completely clogged by a perpetual flood of munici¬ 
pal questions. The vast and intricate modern urban society 
makes it indispensable that the relation of the cities to the su¬ 
preme and controlling central government shall be predicated 
upon recognized and established principles which accord to 
cities sufficient independence to manage their local affairs but 
reserve to the central government full and final power to deal 
with all matters of more than local importance. This ideal is 
easy to state, but putting it into actual practice constitutes one 
of the thorniest problems modern political science has ever 
attempted to solve. This problem will be treated at length in 
the next two chapters. 

Selected References 

C. C. Maxey, Readings in Municipal Government, Chap. I. 

T. H. Reed, Municipal Government in the United States, Chap. III. 
J. G. Thompson, Urbanization, Chaps. Ill, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, 
XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII. 

Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. How many things does the government of your city do today 
that it did not do fifty years ago or even twenty-five years ago? 
What are the reasons for the assumption of these newer functions? 

2. Select a single invention, such as the steam locomotive, the 
automobile, or the radio, and try to enumerate all of the duties and 
problems it has created for government, particularly city govern¬ 
ment. 

3. Make a list of the political issues which the voter of today is 
called upon to decide, and then try to make a similar list of the 
issues which his grandfather or great-grandfather had to pass judg¬ 
ment upon. 


CHAPTER VI 

THE CITY AND THE CENTRAL GOVERNMENT 

The imperial cities of the ancient world acknowledged no 
overlord and knew no master. They were as sovereign as any 
national state of modern times, and were free to enjoy and ex¬ 
ercise the fullest possible governmental authority. But not all 
ancient cities were imperial cities; many of them were subject 
cities, paying tribute and yielding obedience to the conqueror. 
The empire of Rome was in a sense a municipal empire, con¬ 
sisting of a far-flung galaxy of cities which had been brought 
under the heel of the rapacious imperatrix of the Tiber. After 
the collapse of the Roman Empire the western world sank into 
chaos, and many of the Roman cities disappeared altogether 
and others suffered a terrible depletion of wealth and popula¬ 
tion. As to what occurred during that dark period when Ro¬ 
man civilization was evolving into feudalism, we know very 
little; but at the dawn of the mediaeval period we find Western 
Europe dotted with towns and cities proclaiming their inde¬ 
pendence of all superior authority and resisting to the utmost 
the assaults of the feudal barons on the one hand and of the 
lords of the church on the other. By the might of arms the 
more potent barons succeeded in carving out for themselves 
vast estates which eventually grew into kingdoms; and these 
national states, after a long and terrible struggle, thwarted the 
temporal pretensions of the church and emerged with their 
supremacy and sovereignty unchallenged. 

In the national state there was no place for the independent 
city. Born of conquest and maintained by force, the national 
state could not tolerate an imperium in imperio. Its security 
and solidarity depended upon the absolute supremacy of the 
king over all persons and things within its territorial boundaries. 
All cities, therefore, were reduced to a subordinate and de¬ 
pendent position. The king’s law was the law of the land, and 
nothing could stand against it. The king’s peace was enforced 
in country and town alike, and the king’s agents went up and 


The national 
state puts 
an end to 
municipal 
independence. 


39 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The sub¬ 
ordinate 
position of 
the city 


What is local 
and what is 
general? 


40 

down the land administering justice and regulating all matters 
of common concern. Any special privileges must come as a 
grant to municipalities from his gracious majesty, the king. 
There was nothing municipalities might claim as of right 
against the king. 

The position of the city in the modern world is substantially 
the same as it was when the ruthless conquerors of the feudal 
period, by pillage and plunder, extended their dominions and 
welded them into unified national states. The modern city, 
despite the fact that it seems to possess extensive local au¬ 
tonomy, is at bottom a helpless and dependent creature of the 
central government. Kings and autocracies have mostly gone, 
but the national state is more potent that ever. The freedom 
of the modern city is a gift from the central government of the 
national state, but a gift with so many strings attached that 
the freedom is more seeming than real. The central govern¬ 
ment giveth and the central government taketh away, but its 
name is not blessed among the cities of the land. Resigned 
though they must be to the subordinate role assigned to them 
in modern political society, cities complain unceasingly of the 
Procrustean bed in which they are compelled to lie. They 
realize that the suzerainty of the central government is un¬ 
avoidable, and possibly indispensable, but they plead inces¬ 
santly for greater freedom in the management of their own 
local affairs. The issue thus raised constitutes one of the most 
complicated problems in the whole range of public affairs. 

Though it must be recognized that municipalities can have no 
inherent and inalienable rights or liberties as against the central 
government, there is no reason in principle why the central 
government should not concede to cities the right to govern 
themselves in matters of purely local concern. The difficulty 
arises, however, in drawing the line between what is of strictly 
local and what is of general importance. It is easy to lay down 
the rule, but it is exceedingly difficult to put it into operation. 
Upon examining the functions of government, we perceive that 
a great many of them obviously cannot be entrusted entirely to 
the discretion or whim of local agencies of government; they 
are too vital to the interests of the state as a whole. Of such 
character manifestly are the great primary functions of govern¬ 
ment, such as the maintenance of internal and external security, 
the conduct of foreign relations, the administration of justice, 
the regulation of the fundamental rights of person and prop- 


CITY AND CENTRAL GOVERNMENT 


41 


erty, and the basic operations of public finance. No national 
state could commit these functions unreservedly to its munici¬ 
palities without jeopardizing its own existence. On the other 
hand, certain functions of government appear to be initially 
and primarily of local importance. These include such mat¬ 
ters as public improvements, sanitation, the protection and 
preservation of health, the regulation of commerce and indus¬ 
try, and the care of the underprivileged and unfortunate 
classes. But upon closer scrutiny our confidence in this classi¬ 
fication is somewhat shaken. There may have been a time in 
the history of national states when political society was so dis¬ 
crete and dismembered that local interests could be clearly 
differentiated from national interests. If so, that time is long 
past. The great inventions of the industrial age have knit 
human society into a seamless web, and what affects one part 
similarly affects the whole. In the dimly remembered days of 
the sedan-chair and the hackney-coach, for example, the im¬ 
provement of public thoroughfares may have been distinctly a 
matter of local concern; but that is not the case today. The 
automobile has lifted the highway problem from a local to a 
national plane. Likewise in other phases of our common life 
epochal inventions and discoveries have so revolutionized social 
and political relationships that it is no longer accurate to con¬ 
ceive of any function of government as essentially local. 

Of necessity, therefore, we are obliged to abandon the an¬ 
cient and time-honored dichotomy as between general and local 
functions of government, and seek a new basis of classification. 
We may as well concede at the outset that the interests of the 
central government are paramount and all-comprehensive, and 
that there are no functions which belong exclusively to the local 
areas or units of government. Nevertheless the fact is well 
established in political experience that certain functions of gov¬ 
ernment, though basically subject to central control, can be 
more expeditiously executed through local than through central 
agencies. All governments recognize this, and, reserving to 
themselves the fundamental right to determine the scope and 
limits of local authority, do delegate extensive powers to mu¬ 
nicipalities and other local units of government. The modern 
problem is not, therefore, to classify functions as general or 
local; but to determine according to what principles the cen¬ 
tral government may prudently commit powers and responsi¬ 
bilities to local authorities. 


The question 
of delega¬ 
tion to local 
authorities 


42 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The two 
methods of 
granting 
power to 
munici¬ 
palities 


Delegation 
by legislative 
enumeration 
of munici¬ 
pal powers 


Broadly speaking, there are two ways in which the central 
government may bestow power upon municipalities. It may, 
in the first place, grant power by specific enumeration only, 
giving nothing that is not expressly or by unavoidable implica¬ 
tion set forth in definite terms; or it may, in the second place, 
grant power in general, elastic, and even vague terms, subject, 
however, to specific delimitation as concrete cases arise. Under 
the first method of bestowal municipalities find themselves in 
the position of having no authority to act on any subject or 
move in any direction unless they have been given explicit 
power to that effect. They are deprived of all initiative, of all 
right of autonomous action, and must besiege the central gov¬ 
ernment with continual supplication for authority to take this 
or that particular step which is deemed expedient from the 
point of view of local interest. Under the second method 
municipalities are endowed with an indefinite quantum of 
power, and it remains for the central authorities to determine 
as questions arise whether the city is exceeding its authority. 
Municipalities, under this system, possess the initiative, but 
are likely to be promptly and decisively checked if they over¬ 
step the bounds of what the central authorities consider to be 
the proper sphere of municipal activity. The object of both 
systems is to invest the central government with supreme and 
ultimate authority over all public affairs, and at the same time 
to make possible an allocation of power to municipalities which 
will not be incompatible with the interests of the state as a 
whole. Neither of these two modes of procedure in absolute 
purity is to be found in any modern state, but all contemporary 
governments approximate one or the other. Great Britain and 
the United States, for example, lean toward the principle of 
exhaustive and specific enumeration; France and Italy show 
an equal partiality for the principle of sweeping grants and 
definitive checks. 

The effectuation of central control under the first of these 
two sharply contrasted principles calls for a proliferation of 
official enactments or pronouncements describing in minute 
detail the metes and bounds of the sphere of municipal gov¬ 
ernment. Unless authority be specifically granted or must be 
necessarily implied from specific grants, the municipality is 
devoid of power to act. Hence it is necessary to enumerate 
with exhaustive particularity all of the powers, privileges, 
duties, and functions which the central government bestows 


CITY AND CENTRAL GOVERNMENT 


43 


upon municipalities. In modern states, where the legislature 
is the chief lawmaking organ of government, the legislature of 
the central government enacts a voluminous and minutely item¬ 
ized body of statutes covering the organization, powers, and 
procedure of municipal government. Cities are obliged to 
comply with the terms of this body of law, and in the event of 
their failure to do so their acts will be declared ultra vires and 
void. Because of the prominence of legislative enactments in 
this process of control it is usually known as the legislative 
system. 

The most conspicuous example of the legislative system of 
central control is found in the United States. Under the fed¬ 
eral plan of the American government the control and regula¬ 
tion of municipalities is one of the functions reserved to the 
states. For this purpose, then, the state is the central govern¬ 
ment. The legislature of each state has enacted an elaborate 
code of laws which define, enumerate, and determine the paths 
along which municipalities are to move. In case of doubt or 
controversy the issue is taken to the courts; and if the courts 
conceive that the acts in question are not based upon a suffi¬ 
cient grant of power or that they conflict with provisions of the 
municipal code or of the state or national constitutions, they 
will disallow such acts and declare them null and void. Thus 
it is seen that the municipalities of the United States must 
chart their courses through a maze of legal entanglements 
which are supposed to cover every conceivable phase of mu¬ 
nicipal government. Central control thus becomes an enor¬ 
mously complex and technical problem, baffling even to the 
expert in municipal law. This problem will be fully treated 
in a subsequent chapter devoted exclusively to the relation 
between the city and the state in the United States. 

Under our second process of central control the formulation 
of an all-comprehensive and minutely specific municipal code 
is unnecessary. The central government through its legislative 
organs enacts laws which bestow authority upon municipalities 
in broad and indefinite terms, and then provides agencies or 
functionaries whose business it is to interpret and apply these 
sweeping grants of power to each city as questions arise in con¬ 
nection with its affairs. This duty sometimes falls to the 
courts, but as a general rule special administrative machinery 
is created for the purpose. Under this system, when the city 
embarks upon a program of action it must either secure the 


The United 
States as an 
example of 
the legis¬ 
lative system 


The ad¬ 
ministra¬ 
tive system 
of central 
control 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


France is an 
example of 
the ad¬ 
ministrative 
system. 


44 

approval of the central administrative authorities in advance 
or must submit to their intervention later. Because of the 
prominence of administrative procedure in this system of cen¬ 
tral control, it is commonly known as the administrative 
system. 

The administrative system is generally in vogue in conti¬ 
nental Europe, and is perfectly exemplified in France. The 
government of the French Republic is highly centralized. All 
roads lead to Paris, and all powers of government are derived 
from and strictly controlled by the central authorities at the 
national capital. French municipalities, known as communes, 
are recognized as corporate entities with the usual corporate 
powers and privileges. In addition, they receive from the 
municipal code certain general and rather indefinite grants of 
power to manage their internal affairs. These grants of power 
do not embrace certain fields of authority, however, which in 
other countries are commonly delegated to municipalities. In 
France, managing education, poor relief, highways, and police 
are central functions; and municipalities, when acting in those 
fields, are mere agents of the central government. Moreover, 
in the fields which are definitely assigned to municipalities the 
central government keeps a close tab upon all municipal opera¬ 
tions through the medium of administrative supervision. 

The administrative machinery of the French Republic heads 
up in the President, in whose name all official acts are promul¬ 
gated. But the acts of the President must have the sanction of 
the ministry, which is responsible to Parliament; and this means 
that the real headship of the government rests with the Prime 
Minister and his cabinet. The member of the Cabinet who has 
jurisdiction over local affairs is the Minister of the Interior. 
The country is divided into 89 administrative areas called de¬ 
partments, and for each department there is an official known 
as the prefect. The prefect is appointed by the President of 
the Republic upon recommendation of the Minister of the In¬ 
terior, and is therefore subordinate to and responsible to the 
Minister of the Interior. Each department is in turn sub¬ 
divided into districts known as arrondissements, and in each of 
these areas there is a functionary called the sub-prefect, also 
appointed by the President upon nomination of the Minister of 
the Interior. The sub-prefect is merely a deputy prefect. 

The powers of the French municipality are of three kinds: 
advisory, provisional, and independent. The advisory powers 


CITY AND CENTRAL GOVERNMENT 


45 

embrace those matters with reference to which the municipal 
authorities have a right to be consulted. The central govern¬ 
ment, acting generally through the prefect and sub-prefects, 
has the initiative and the right of final decision, but before 
taking final action the authorities of the municipality concerned 
must be consulted and their advice received. But the central 
authorities are not bound to follow this advice after it is given. 
The provisional powers include all those in respect to which the 
municipal authorities have the initiative but cannot take final 
action without the approval of the prefect or his superiors. 
The independent powers, as the name suggests, are those which 
municipalities may exercise without direct interference or re¬ 
straint on the part of the central government. Needless to say, 
practically all of the vital and important powers from the point 
of view of the central government are included in the first two 
categories. The prefect fixes the dates for the sessions of all 
municipal councils in his department, and may, at his discre¬ 
tion, suspend the sittings of such councils. He must approve 
the budget of all municipalities in his department, and has the 
right to alter the budget by inserting or striking out items. He 
must ratify the appointment of various municipal officials, and 
has authority to suspend the mayor for a period of one month. 
The suspension of the mayor may be extended to three months 
by the Minister of the Interior, and by presidential decree the 
mayor may be removed from office. The only recourse of the 
municipal authorities in the event of deadlock between them 
and the prefect is to appeal to the Minister of the Interior, and 
from the Minister of the Interior to the Council of State, which 
is the supreme administrative tribunal of the Republic. 

It is clear, then, that the French city, though not vexed by 
statutory limitations like the American city, is nevertheless 
subject to administrative checks which place it wholly under 
the parental tutelage of the central government. This system 
of central control is fairly typical of what may be found in all 
countries of continental Europe; it is in fact one of the notable 
by-products of the Napoleonic regime, and was extended 
throughout Europe by the conquests of the first Napoleon. 

There is an evident tendency in all countries toward com¬ 
promise between the legislative and administrative systems of 
central control; and, as might be expected, the country which 
has made the most striking progress in this direction is Eng¬ 
land. After several centuries of wrestling with the problems 


The mixed 
system of 
central 
control 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


England as 
an example 
of the mixed 
system 


46 

of central control, the English have evolved a mixed system, of 
which the most distinctive thing that can be said is that it is 
typically and characteristically English. The functions and 
powers of municipalities are laid down and defined by acts of 
Parliament. Municipalities, known in England as boroughs, 
are chartered by act of Parliament, and their powers and pre¬ 
rogatives are determined by the common law, by the general 
municipal corporations acts (such, for example, as those of 1835 
and 1882), and by special or “ private” acts applicable to 
municipalities singly. The various statutory enactments gov¬ 
erning cities may be couched in general and indefinite terms or 
in terms that are explicit, specific, and minute. Circumstances 
control, and there is no consistent rule. 

To keep municipalities within the limits established by par¬ 
liamentary circumscription, various expedients are employed. 
In the first place, when it is alleged by a citizen that ultra vires 
acts of a municipality encroach upon his rights or impose a 
financial burden upon him, he may through the ordinary proc¬ 
esses of litigation appeal to the courts. If the courts find in 
favor of the complainant, they may set aside the acts in ques¬ 
tion, and in cases of tort may give a judgment awarding pe¬ 
cuniary damages to the injured citizen. In the second place, 
divers administrative departments and agencies of the central 
government are empowered to issue orders, rules, and regula¬ 
tions supplementing acts of Parliament, to approve or reject 
municipal ordinances and by-laws on various subjects, to inter¬ 
vene and submit suggestions and advice to municipal authori¬ 
ties, and to supervise the details of certain local business and 
affairs. The most prominent of these central controlling agen¬ 
cies, none of which is exclusively devoted to the function of 
central control, are the Ministry of Health, which exercises 
authority over such matters as poor relief, public health, local 
boundaries, and local finance; the Board of Trade, which has 
jurisdiction over certain municipal utilities; the Ministry of 
Transport, which has extensive authority with reference to 
street railways, electric light and power plants, ferries, docks, 
and piers; the Home Office, which exercises supervisory and 
regulatory control over municipal police; the Ministry of Agri¬ 
culture and Fisheries, whose field includes markets and fairs, 
the inspection of foods and drugs, and the suppression of epi¬ 
demics among animals; and the Board of Education, which 
oversees the administration of the public school system. The 


CITY AND CENTRAL GOVERNMENT 


47 

Ministry of Pensions, the Post Office Department, the Public 
Works Loan Board, the Treasury, and the Ministry of Labor 
also have important powers with reference to municipal 
government. 

In the third place, in England the central government keeps 
municipalities under rein by what are known as grants-in-aid. 
No more ingenious and effective means of constraining munici¬ 
pal independence has ever been devised. The central govern¬ 
ment regularly appropriates from the national treasury certain 
sums of money to be used in assisting municipalities in financ¬ 
ing education, the police, health administration, street improve¬ 
ment, poor relief, and housing. No municipality, however, may 
share in the distribution of these benefactions unless it com¬ 
plies with the regulations prescribed by the central government 
for the conduct of these particular functions and submits to 
rigid inspection at the hands of the central authorities to verify 
its claims to grants-in-aid. The eagerness of municipal officials 
to shift the burden of taxation as much as possible to the cen¬ 
tral government is so keen that the exactions of the central 
government are readily met. 

There is a noticeable tendency in several states of the Ameri¬ 
can Union to borrow a leaf now and then from the British book. 
Grants-in-aid are increasingly common and seductively popu¬ 
lar. Various kinds and degrees of central administrative con¬ 
trol or supervision are also being introduced, particularly in 
such fields as public health, education, public utilities, and 
finance. Central control goes further, as a rule, in matters of 
health and education than in other phases of municipal govern¬ 
ment. The state board or commission of public health exercises 
mandatory authority over municipal health officials, and under 
certain circumstances may supersede them altogether. Simi¬ 
lar developments are taking place in the field of education. A 
great many states, through state tax commissions or bureaus of 
audit and inspection, have extended central administrative 
control to the domain of municipal finance. A few states have 
gone so far as to empower the governor, under special circum¬ 
stances and by special procedure, to remove the mayor, the 
chief of police, and other municipal officials. Indicative of the 
trend in this direction is the remarkably drastic and sweeping 
measure enacted in Michigan in 1923. This measure author¬ 
izes the governor, after notice and hearing, to remove all 
county, township, village, or city officers upon charges of offi- 


English 
example 
being fol¬ 
lowed in 
the United 
States 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The com¬ 
parative 
advantages 
and defects 
of the dif¬ 
ferent sys¬ 
tems of 
central con¬ 
trol 


The cardi¬ 
nal weak¬ 
ness of the 
legislative 
system 


48 

cial misconduct, wilful neglect of duty, extortion, habitual 
drunkenness or conviction of having been drunk, or conviction 
of a felony. 

Many arguments are advanced with respect to the merits and 
shortcomings of the different systems of central control reviewed 
in the foregoing pages. In the United States the legislative 
system is unqualifiedly condemned. American state legisla¬ 
tures have been astonishingly inept and perverse in dealing 
with matters of municipal government. They have boggled, 
botched, and sinned until American publicists have come to 
feel that almost anything is preferable to legislative control. 
Legislative control in the United States has come to be synony¬ 
mous with malicious meddling in municipal affairs, with cor¬ 
ruption and venality, and with arbitrary and contemptuous dis¬ 
regard for urban sentiment and interest by stupid, if not venal, 
rural politicians. From the point of view of principle, however, 
these are not the most serious defects of the legislative system 
of central control. From that point of view the cardinal weak¬ 
ness of the legislative system is that it offers no workable mean 
between the paralyzing rigidity which results from treating all 
cities alike under general laws and the demoralizing chaos 
which results from treating each city separately under special 
laws. Special legislation for each city is an impossibility in 
states having a large number of municipalities for the simple 
and obvious reason that no legislature with the problems of a 
great state before it can find or spare the time necessary to give 
adequate consideration to the affairs of all of its municipalities. 
Uniform legislation applicable alike to all cities, though not 
unfeasible, is nevertheless an unmitigated abomination, because 
it compresses all cities, regardless of size or other differences, 
into a single mould. No municipal code can be sufficiently 
comprehensive and elastic to anticipate the contingencies of a 
hundred highly differentiated municipalities. Most municipal 
codes do not even attempt such a thing, but proceed rather 
upon the hypothesis that uniformity is the chief object of cen¬ 
tral control. But uniform rules applied to municipalities may 
be just as absurd and baneful as uniform rules applied to men. 
No sane person would command all men to wear garments of 
the same size, eat the same food, perform the same movements, 
and think the same thoughts; but many legislatures have com¬ 
manded all municipalities within their jurisdiction to goose- 
step even more preposterously than that in order to achieve 


CITY AND CENTRAL GOVERNMENT 


49 

uniformity of municipal government. Unfortunately, however, 
there is no getting away from uniformity, under the legislative 
system of control, without seizing the other horn of the dilemma, 
which is indiscriminate special legislation. There is no tertium 
quid. 

The administrative system of central control, by contrast 
with the legislative system, appears to be a veritable com¬ 
pendium of virtues. It affords opportunity for broad and uni¬ 
form legislation in matters where uniformity is desirable and 
practicable, but leaves room for differentiation and special 
treatment where uniformity is inadvisable. The legislature 
outlines a general plan of municipal government and procedure, 
and the administrative functionaries fill in the chinks as the 
special circumstances of each municipality make expedient. 
Such is the theory; and when the theory is realized in practice, 
the results are wholly admirable. Elasticity and flexibility 
result from the fact that the administrative functionaries 
charged with the regulation and control of municipal affairs 
may be invested with discretion to deviate from the rigid rules 
of the general code as the exigencies of this or that particular 
city may require. If these officials are conscientious, trained, 
and experienced, the city benefits not only by its emancipation 
from the rule of uniformity imposed by a bungling legislature, 
but also by reason of the supervision of its affairs by techni¬ 
cians of rare ability and insight. But practice does not always 
measure up to theory; and this is true of the administrative 
system of central control. The infirmities and sins of bureau¬ 
cracy are as numerous and reprehensible as those of legisla¬ 
tures ; and bureaucratic control often turns out to be as inflexible 
and arbitrarily indifferent to municipal interests as legislative 
control. Professor Munro in commenting upon the predicament 
of French cities says, “ . . . the tendency is to concentrate the 
entire supervisory power in Paris, although the routine work 
continues to be scattered among eighty-nine prefectures and 
three hundred sub-prefectures. The result, according to one 
critic of the system, is ‘ apoplexy at the brain center and paraly¬ 
sis in the extremities.’ In other words, the ministry of the in¬ 
terior has so many small details thrust upon it that there is 
great congestion in its offices, while the local authorities have 
been left with so little initiative as to superinduce a sort of mu¬ 
nicipal helplessness.” 1 It may also happen, as has been the 

1 Munro, The Government of European Cities (rev. ed.), p. 230. 


The virtues 
and defects 
of the ad¬ 
ministrative 
system 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The mixed 
system 
avoids both 
extremes. 


So 

case at times in France and Italy, that the supervising central 
officials, swayed by factional, partisan, or personal considera¬ 
tions, are guilty of grave abuses of office and authority. As be¬ 
tween the caprice of a venal bureaucrat and the caprice of a 
pettifogging legislature there is little to choose. 

The English process of central control, representing as it 
does a judicious admixture of the legislative and administra¬ 
tive principles, has seemingly met with greater success than 
either of its component ingredients when taken separately. It 
may be that this nondescript scheme of central control is pe¬ 
culiarly adapted to the political genius of the English people; 
but it is difficult to resist the conviction that there is some 
merit, apart from the question of local adaptation, in the idea 
of tempering the radical propensities of both systems by com¬ 
bining them in such a way that they tend to neutralize one 
another. Local self-government is no mere shibboleth; it is a 
highly desirable and important requisite in a democracy. Of 
course local self-government cannot be allowed to subvert the 
integrity and welfare of the state as a whole. The ideal should 
be the most extensive local self-government compatible and 
consistent with the general interests of the state. If this ideal 
cannot be attained under the legislative and administrative 
systems of central control — and experience seems to point 
to that conclusion — it may conceivably be attainable through 
a felicitous fusion of the two. 


Selected References 

E. S. Griffith, The Modern Development of City Government, 
Vol. II, Chap. XI. 

B. W. Maxwell, Contemporary Municipal Government of Germany, 
Chap. II. 

W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. I, 
Chap. VIII. 

W. B. Munro, The Government of European Cities (rev. ed.), 
Chaps. Ill, XII, XIX, XXI. 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Would you wish to live in a free city — one that was not in¬ 
cluded in any one of our modern national states? What reasons 
can you suggest for your preferences in this matter? 

2. Make a list of the governmental functions which in your judg- 


CITY AND CENTRAL GOVERNMENT 


SI 

ment may be more satisfactorily performed by local than by central 
units of government. Which of these, if any, do you think it would 
be wise to leave to municipalities without central control or super¬ 
vision? 

3. Resolved, that the French system of central control is superior 
to the American. Argue both sides of the foregoing question. 

4. What advantages does the English system of central control 
have as compared with the French and American systems? 


Central con¬ 
trol before 
and after 
the American 
Revolution 


CHAPTER VII 

THE CITY AND THE STATE IN THE UNITED STATES 

The government of the United States, constituted as it is on 
a federal basis, presents an almost indescribably complex prob¬ 
lem, as regards central control of cities. Prior to the American 
Revolution the English colonies in America were separate and 
distinct political entities, united only by bonds of sentiment 
and sympathy and by a common fealty to the mother country. 
The regulation of local affairs was, therefore, a matter to be 
dealt with by each colony separately. Provision was made in 
each colony for the incorporation of municipalities and for the 
regulation of municipal affairs by the colonial authorities; but 
there was no unified and common system of municipal control 
for the thirteen colonies as a whole. As between the different 
colonies there were striking similarities and resemblances; but 
these grew out of the fact that all the colonies evolved their 
systems of municipal control by the adaptation of English insti¬ 
tutions to colonial conditions. 

The Revolution dissolved the bonds which linked the colonies 
with the mother country and eventuated in the formation of a 
loose federation of independent states under the Articles of 
Confederation. The colonies thus became states, and as such 
they carefully reserved to themselves the utmost possible inde¬ 
pendence and autonomy, including, of course, the function of 
controlling and regulating all processes of local government. 
When the Articles of Confederation were superseded by the 
present Constitution of the United States in 1789, the states 
ceded to the newly created federal government a considerable 
portion of their reserved powers and prerogatives; but these 
cessions did not touch the field of local government. The 
function of central control of municipalities and other units of 
local government remained, as it had always been, exclusively 
a matter of state law and state administration. So it happened 
that we began in this country with thirteen distinct and mutu¬ 
ally exclusive systems of central control. The number has now 

52 


THE CITY AND THE STATE 


S3 

been increased to forty-eight — one for each state of the Union. 
Therefore anyone who would fully and accurately explore the 
processes of central control in the United States must be pre¬ 
pared to examine the constitutions, statutes, and administra¬ 
tive operations of each of the forty-eight states. Fortunately, 
however, the general student, who is not interested in technical 
details, may be spared this Sisyphean labor. Owing to their 
common ancestry and to the propensity of the states to imitate 
one another, the common features of the systems of central 
control in the different states are quite as pronounced and sig¬ 
nificant as their differences. By describing these common 
features it is possible to present a sort of composite picture 
which, though not faithfully correct for any single state, does 
nevertheless embody the leading characteristics of the proc¬ 
esses of central control as found in all the states. 

In order to get the correct perspective for the picture we 
must start with a recognition of the undeniable legal subordina¬ 
tion of the municipality to the state. Legally the municipality 
is a mere creature of the state; it has no innate and inherent 
legal rights as against the state. This doctrine of law has been 
established by upwards of two centuries of constitutional prac¬ 
tice, and is buttressed by innumerable judicial opinions includ¬ 
ing indefeasible pronouncements of the Supreme Court of the 
United States. In a few states the courts have manifested a 
disposition to depart from the iron rigor of this rule, and have 
handed down opinions which seemed to concede that munici¬ 
palities, without any explicit authorization in the constitution 
or laws of the state, may enjoy certain inherent rights of local 
self-government. After an exhaustive study of these cases, 
Professor McBain has arrived at the conclusion that this legal 
heresy has been actually applied in only “ three cases in In¬ 
diana, in one case in Kentucky, and in one case in Iowa.” In 
respect to the other alleged instances of adhesion to the in¬ 
herent rights doctrine Professor McBain says, “ ... in spite 
of certain general and unguarded expressions of opinion, which 
when isolated from their context seem to lend color of support, 
a careful examination of the opinions delivered in these cases 
reveals the fact that in every one of them decision was reached 
by the construction and application of some specific provision 
of the state constitution that guaranteed this or that right to 
cities.” 1 Not only is the absolute suzerainty of the state over 

1 McBain, The Law and Practice of Municipal Home Rule, p. 12 ff. 


The legal 
subordina¬ 
tion of the 
city to the 
state 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The city as 
a municipal 
corporation 


54 

its municipalities firmly established in the law, but, as we shall 
see later, it is not being undermined by the increasingly popular 
reform known as municipal home rule. The city in the United 
States has always been, and probably will always remain, a 
humble and dependent donee of the state. Our first problem, 
then, is to ascertain what and how the state gives to cities. 

The first, and possibly the most important, thing which the 
state bestows upon the municipality is its corporate existence. 
The city in the United States is a corporation, a municipal cor¬ 
poration. This is the hall-mark of municipal character. An 
unincorporated place is not a municipality, and an incorporated 
place is, regardless of all such considerations as area, popula¬ 
tion, or wealth. Judge McQuillin defines a municipal corpora¬ 
tion as: “ ... a legal institution, or body politic and corporate, 
established by public law, or sovereign power, evidenced by a 
charter, with defined limits and a population, a corporate name 
and perpetual succession, primarily to regulate the local or in¬ 
ternal affairs of the territory or district incorporated by officers 
selected by the corporation, and secondarily to share in the civil 
government of the state in the particular locality.” This defi¬ 
nition is rather more descriptive than analytical, but for our 
purposes it states the case very well. A municipality is a 
“ body politic and corporate.” This means that it is, like every 
corporation, an artificial entity created by law and recognized 
as a person before the law. As a person before the law it is 
endowed with certain legal attributes. These include the right 
to have a distinctive corporate name, the right to sue and be 
sued as a person, the right to contract and be contracted with 
as a personal entity, the right to acquire, possess, and dispose 
of property as a person, and the right of perpetual succession. 
These rights the municipality obtains through the simple fact 
of its incorporation, and these rights enable the inhabitants to 
conduct their common business and affairs in much the same 
manner as an ordinary business corporation does. In addition 
to these common corporate powers and privileges the state may 
confer upon the municipal corporation any measure of legal 
authority and power which the state deems essential to the 
accomplishment of the functions of the corporation and the 
performance of its duties as the agent of the state. 

The essential fact to keep in mind at this point is that a 
definite act of sovereign authority is necessary to the genesis of 
the municipal corporation and to its endowment with power 


THE CITY AND THE STATE ss 

to function as a political entity. The sovereign power requisite 
for this purpose resides, under the American constitutional sys¬ 
tem, in the state and nowhere else. In the colonial period 
charters to municipal corporations were granted by the colonial 
governor. This act of incorporation bestowed upon the place 
incorporated the right of corporate existence with all the com¬ 
mon law powers incident thereto. Special powers, over and 
above the common law powers of municipal corporations, had 
to come from the colonial legislature. The American Revolu¬ 
tion was accompanied by a hysterical distrust of executive 
authority, and the office of governor was accordingly stripped 
of all but the shadow of its formerly regal powers and attri¬ 
butes. Most of the prerogatives of the governor were trans¬ 
ferred to the legislature, and along with this transposition went 
the governor’s right of granting charters to municipal corpora¬ 
tions. When, therefore, the colonies emerged into statehood, 
the legislatures of the several states were found to be seized 
and possessed of practically unmeasured authority over mu¬ 
nicipal corporations. Unless restrained by the state constitu¬ 
tion, the legislature had full power to grant or revoke municipal 
charters, to withhold, give, or withdraw municipal powers at its 
discretion, and to intervene in municipal affairs according to 
its own fancy and caprice. The state constitutions of the early 
period imposed virtually no checks upon the legislature. The 
legislature at that time was deemed to be the rightful custodian 
of the sovereignty of the state, and in some instances was even 
empowered to formulate and revise the constitution of the state 
itself. 

In the course of a few years, however, state legislatures fell 
from their high estate. There were many reasons for this, not 
all of which are germane to this discussion. In the field of 
municipal legislation state legislatures were charged with gross 
incompetence and villainous betrayal of popular trust. The 
facts did not always sustain the charges; but the facts were 
bad enough, and were sufficient to shake the confidence of 
the people in legislative rule. There were three courses of 
procedure open to the legislature in dealing with cities: (i) 
they could deal with each city separately by means of special 
enactments applicable to it alone; (2) they could deal with all 
cities alike by means of general and uniform laws applicable in 
the same terms to all cities; or (3) they could enact municipal 
legislation in broad and elastic terms, leaving the details of its 


All corporate 
powers are 
derived from 
the state. 


The suprem¬ 
acy of the 
state legis¬ 
lature and 
the subse¬ 
quent reac¬ 
tion against 
it 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Special legis¬ 
lation and 
legislative 
meddling 
with local 
affairs 


56 

application to particular cities to the discretion of administra¬ 
tive officials. For the most part state legislatures seemed to 
prefer the first of these three courses of procedure; and thereby 
hangs a tale. 

There is nothing inherently vicious about the practice of 
special legislation for each city according to its particular re¬ 
quirements; and it may under some circumstances be a very 
wise and salutary procedure. But it is a path beset with many 
pitfalls. These were not as obvious a century and a half ago 
as they are today. In those bygone days less than four per 
cent of the American people lived in cities, and the total num¬ 
ber of municipalities in each state was so small that it was no 
chore at all for the legislature to treat each city as sui generis. 
The enormous multiplication of cities in this country during 
the last century has made that an impossible task today. 
Moreover, the contrast between city and country in those prim¬ 
itive years was by no means as positive and as pregnant with 
confusion as it is today. Cities then had no unique and highly 
technical problems of finance, public utilities, engineering, 
sanitation, and the like to differentiate them from the rural 
portions of the state; and it was possible, therefore, for a legis¬ 
lature composed of rural politicians to act with a fair degree 
of intelligence upon urban questions. That, too, is a possi¬ 
bility which time has relegated to limbo. 

A very sordid page would be erased from American history 
if our story could end with the mention of the inherent defects 
of the system of special legislation as stated in the preceding 
paragraph; but that would be like stopping a post mortem 
examination with a study of the physiological defects of the 
deceased and failing to take account of the disease which killed 
him. The disease that brought about the demise of the regime 
of special legislation for cities was none other than rotten poli¬ 
tics. It is easy to see that the power of special legislation in 
the hands of a legislature that was venal, blindly partisan, or 
passionately .parochial would constitute a mighty engine for 
evil-doing. Any city could be singled out and marked for 
plunder. Its payrolls could be loaded with spoilsmen at the 
behest of the state legislature; its public utilities, street im¬ 
provements, and the like could be delivered over to promoters 
or contractors willing to “ salt the palms ” of the members of 
the legislature; its scheme of government could be retailored 
at will to meet the passing exigencies of any legislative major- 


THE CITY AND THE STATE 


57 

ity. Outrages of this character have occurred not occasionally, 
but frequently and regularly. The history of every state in 
the Union is blotted with evidence of the misuse of the power 
of special legislation for reprehensible political purposes. By 
sad experience American municipalities have discovered that 
special legislation not only subjected them to bungling regula¬ 
tion, but also placed them at the mercy of organized gangs of 
political freebooters whose rascality would stop at nothing short 
of selling the city out from under the feet of its own citizens. 

Small wonder that cities rebelled! They took the only course 
open to them, and entered upon a long and desperate struggle 
for freedom — not from state control, but from legislative domi¬ 
nation. That struggle has been going on for upwards of a 
century now, and the lines of battle are still tensely drawn. 
There have been victories, defeats, and stalemates; but on the 
whole the tide of battle has moved irresistibly in the direction 
of municipal freedom. The American city remains, and doubt¬ 
less always will remain, a humble vassal of the state; but there 
is now scarcely a state in the Union where the state legislature 
retains its former mastery of municipal destinies. From the 
absolutism of the post-colonial period the state legislature has 
sunk to a position of strictly tethered authority. By one 
means or another municipalities in all states have succeeded 
in achieving partial, if not complete, independence of legisla¬ 
tive dominion. 

The first recourse of cities in their struggle against the legis¬ 
lature was to appeal to the courts. The principle of judicial 
review became an accepted part of the American constitutional 
system in the early part of the last century; and from that 
time forward no one has successfully challenged the right of 
the courts to set aside and nullify legislative acts deemed by 
them to be in conflict with the constitution of the nation or the 
state. By alleging, therefore, that a particular legislative en¬ 
actment affecting it was unconstitutional, it was always possible 
for a city to take the issue into court and have an authoritative 
judicial pronouncement on the question of whether the funda¬ 
mental laws afforded cities any protection against the aggressive 
pretensions of the state legislature. The courts, by their inter¬ 
pretation of the constitution, might, and frequently did, impose 
very appreciable checks upon the freedom of the legislature to 
deal with cities according to its own lights. The bulging tomes 
of the law are full of such cases, and it is now considered an 


The struggle 
for munici¬ 
pal freedom 


The munici¬ 
pal appeal to 
the courts 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


58 


To what ex¬ 
tent does the 
Constitution 
of the United 
States limit 
state legis¬ 
latures with 
respect to 
cities? 


The contract 
clause 


The due 

process 

clause 


everyday function of the courts to act as arbiter between legis¬ 
latures and municipalities. 

In the great majority of these cases it is a state constitution 
and not the federal constitution whose interpretation is at 
issue. The Constitution of the United States does not extend 
to local government directly, and can be invoked in municipal 
questions only in the event that the action of the state tran¬ 
scends some of the express limitations of the national consti¬ 
tution. There are not many provisions in the national constitu¬ 
tion which could be construed to limit the state or the state 
legislature in their treatment of municipalities. One of these 
is the contract clause, which forbids any state to “ pass any 
law impairing the obligation of contracts.” This clause would 
protect cities against legislative oppression, provided it were 
held that municipal charters and other legislative grants to 
cities are of contractual character. But the courts have not 
so held. In fact the courts, and particularly the federal courts, 
have been almost unanimous in the opinion that municipal 
corporations are political subdivisions of the state for mere 
convenience, and that neither the charter nor any law confer¬ 
ring powers or vesting property constitutes a contract between 
the city and the state. A few instances have occurred where 
the contract clause of the federal constitution has been suc¬ 
cessfully invoked in state courts to defeat legislation interfer¬ 
ing with cities; but these cases do not have the sanction of the 
federal courts, and in most of them the reasoning has been so 
confused that it would be hard to say that the decision was 
based squarely upon the contract clause alone. 

Another portion of the federal constitution which might con¬ 
ceivably afford protection to municipalities is the Fourteenth 
Amendment. Among other things this famous amendment 
forbids any state to “ deprive any person of life, liberty, or 
property without due process of law ” or to “ deny to any per¬ 
son within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.” 
Being a corporation, a municipality is a person; and it has 
been held that corporations are persons within the meaning of 
the amendment. Therefore it would seem that a municipal 
corporation would be entitled to the same protection as a 
private corporation. There have been a great many cases on 
this point — far too many to be reviewed here. On the whole 
it may be said that the courts have shown no particular zeal 
in interpreting the Fourteenth Amendment for the benefit of 


THE CITY AND THE STATE 


59 

cities, and have accorded to municipalities very few of the 
protections which they readily accord to private corporations. 
The fact that a municipal corporation is viewed as a political 
subdivision of the state militates against it in all cases of con¬ 
flict with the state legislature. In a few cases it has been held 
that the due process clause would forestall legislative interfer¬ 
ence with the city’s right of contract; but it is not clear in these 
cases whether the courts have been as much concerned about 
the city’s freedom of contract as about that of the private per¬ 
sons who happened to be contracting with the city. It has 
also been held that the due process clause will preclude legis¬ 
lative action transferring the property of a municipal corpora¬ 
tion to a private person. Aside from these two items, the due 
process clause can be credited with very little definite opposi¬ 
tion to legislative domination of cities. The equal protection 
clause has been similarly ineffective in this regard. The courts 
doubtless have been reluctant to read the Constitution literally 
in controversies involving the question of municipal rights 
against the state legislature, for fear of plunging our national 
government indirectly into the domain of local government, 
a result that would be contrary to the letter and spirit of 
the instrument. Only in dealing with questions of taxation 
have they forgotten their caution and laid down a general rule 
to protect municipalities against legislative action. The fed¬ 
eral courts in a long series of cases have evolved a rule to the 
effect that the Constitution of the United States forbids taxa¬ 
tion for a private purpose; and they have categorically held 
this to mean that a state legislature may neither permit nor 
compel a municipality to levy taxes of the proscribed character. 

When, however, we turn from the national constitution to the 
state constitutions, we find a very different story. All of the 
state constitutions contain bills of rights and other restrictive 
provisions placing limitations upon the exercise of legislative 
power; and the state courts have exhibited a marked readiness 
to interpret these in such a way as to safeguard cities as much 
as possible against arbitrary legislative coercion. Some of the 
state courts, as pointed out above, when unable to find any 
specific constitutional provision upon which to hang a decision 
favorable to the municipal side of the question, have taken 
refuge in the specious doctrine of the inherent right of local 
self-government. That expedient has been unnecessary in the 
great majority of states; for it has nearly always been possible 


The equal 
protection 
clause 


The public 
purpose 
rule in 
taxation 


Municipal 
protection in 
state con¬ 
stitutions 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The local 
selection of 
municipal 
officers 


6o 

to find some specific clause in the state constitution upon which 
a decision might be based. Failing that, it Jbas seldom been 
difficult to get the constitution amended so as to include an 
explicit limitation of the desired tenor. As a matter of fact 
the student of politics may read the story of the struggle for 
municipal freedom in the progressive modification of state con¬ 
stitutions, much as the geologist reads the story of the progres¬ 
sive development of plant and animal life in the record of the 
rocks. It is impossible to study the successive changes in the 
content of state constitutions since 1800 or thereabouts with¬ 
out being struck by the increasing number of constitutional 
provisions which have been inserted for no other apparent pur¬ 
pose than to circumscribe the freedom of the legislature in 
dealing with cities. A few of the more common and character¬ 
istic of these provisions may be reviewed with profit in this 
survey. 

One of the earliest constitutional devices to safeguard mu¬ 
nicipal independence against legislative caprice was the inser¬ 
tion of a provision in the state constitution guaranteeing the 
local selection of municipal officers. Guarantees of this kind 
made their appearance in state constitutions as early as 1812, 
and by the mid-century they were common. The sweeping 
guarantee contained in the New York constitution of 1846 is 
fairly typical. It read: “ All city, town, and village officers 
whose election or appointment is not otherwise provided for by 
this constitution, shall be elected by the electors of such cities, 
towns, and villages, or of some division thereof, or appointed by 
such authorities thereof as the legislature shall designate for 
that purpose.” But state legislatures composed of rapacious 
spoilsmen were not to be thrown off the trail of their prey by 
any obstacles that ingenuity could circumvent; and they soon 
discovered a means of getting around the local selection clause. 
By creating special metropolitan districts including the munici¬ 
pality but not exactly coincident perhaps with its boundaries, 
the legislature found a way of taking local administration out 
of the hands of the municipal authorities without violating the 
local selection clause of the constitution. Soon there was a 
spawning of metropolitan police districts, metropolitan park 
districts, metropolitan improvement districts, and metropolitan 
districts for the performance of other municipal functions to 
such an extent that cities were pretty effectually stripped of 
the administration of their own affairs. The courts held that 


THE CITY AND THE STATE 61 

these districts did not come within the purview of the constitu¬ 
tional prohibition, not being cities, towns, or villages; and that 
the legislature might therefore place such a district under the 
government of a commission or board whose members were 
chosen directly or indirectly by the legislature itself. Thus it 
was possible for the legislature to control the distribution of 
municipal patronage, the letting of municipal contracts, and 
other matters of political importance in utter disregard of local 
interests or constitutional guarantees. 

The reaction against this metropolitan district idea was 
prompt and decisive, and led to further constitutional protec¬ 
tions for cities. Pennsylvania took the lead in 1873 with a con¬ 
stitutional provision forbidding the legislature to delegate to 
any special commission or board, private corporation or asso¬ 
ciation, any power to make, supervise, or interfere with any 
municipal improvement, money, property, or effects, or to levy 
taxes or to perform any municipal function whatever. Other 
states quickly followed the example of Pennsylvania, and in a 
short time constitutional impediments of this character were 
operating against state legislatures in practically all sections 
of the Union. 

More drastic, however, than either of the above-mentioned 
devices for shackling the state legislature are the constitutional 
prohibitions against special legislation for municipal corpora¬ 
tions, which first appeared in the Ohio constitution of 1851. 
The original Ohio proscription of special legislation was couched 
in sweeping terms. It defined general laws, declared that such 
laws should operate uniformly throughout the state, forbade 
the legislature to pass any special act conferring corporate pow¬ 
ers, and required the legislature to provide for the organization, 
government, and control of cities by general laws. Taking their 
cue from this, other states proceeded to ban special legislation 
in more or less stringent terms until now approximately three- 
fourths of the states have such constitutional provisions. 

The vices and dangers of special legislation have already 
been commented upon. “ An act providing for the appointment 
of a stenographer by the corporation counsel of the city of 
Binghampton ” (New York); “ An act to authorize the city 
council of the city of Lancaster to borrow money to erect a city 
hall and other buildings ” (Ohio); “ An act authorizing the 
city of Edgartown to take eels out of the oyster pond ” (Massa¬ 
chusetts) ; “ An act authorizing the city of Hick’s Lake to build 


Prohibitions 
of special 
districts, 
boards, or 
commissions 


The banning 
of special 
legislation 


62 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Other con¬ 
stitutional 
restrictions 
of legislative 
power in the 
interest of 
municipal 
freedom 


bath houses ” (Wisconsin) — these and thousands of the same 
species may have been perfectly innocent and perfectly sound 
pieces of legislation, and they may have been just the contrary. 
The practice opens the door to innumerable abuses, and further¬ 
more clogs the channels of legislation with petty local matters 
entirely beyond the competence of an honest legislature and 
susceptible of the grossest malefactions at the hands of a dis¬ 
honest one. The prohibition of special legislation was certainly 
a prudent expedient, even though it has not always been a suc¬ 
cessful one. The rule of rigid uniformity, if strictly interpreted 
and enforced, means that all cities, however large or small, must 
be locked in a straight-jacket and subjected to absolutely the 
same treatment in all particulars. This, under some circum¬ 
stances, may be almost as calamitous as unrestricted special 
legislation. The courts, therefore, have been under the neces¬ 
sity of viewing the various constitutional interdictions of spe¬ 
cial legislation with a liberal and practical eye. As a matter 
of practical expediency some differentiation is desirable; and 
the courts have been inclined to hold it to be a sufficient com¬ 
pliance with the uniformity rule for the legislature to classify 
cities according to population and deal with each separate class 
by uniform legislation. This in a few instances opened the way 
for complete circumvention of the uniformity rule by means of 
such a highly refined classification that practically every city 
was in a class by itself; but generally speaking the classifica¬ 
tions were well-intentioned and reasonable. 

The tethering of the state legislature by means of constitu¬ 
tional restrictions has taken many forms in addition to those 
just described. There are many and divers restrictions in rela¬ 
tion to municipal finance, municipal utilities, and various other 
phases of municipal government. An exhaustive survey of state 
constitutions would show that very few aspects of city govern¬ 
ment have escaped the attention of our state constitution- 
makers in their efforts to surround cities with bulwarks against 
legislative aggression. These constitutional protections un¬ 
doubtedly have been instrumental in preventing all sorts of 
vicious and unjustifiable invasions of the domain of municipal 
government by iniquitous legislatures; but they have not served 
to emancipate municipalities in a fundamental way from legis¬ 
lative dominion. They are negative in operation rather than 
positive. The city gains no power to act without express legis¬ 
lative authorization; and the legislature is checked only to the 


THE CITY AND THE STATE 


63 


extent that-explicit constitutional barriers are erected against 
it. Since the interstices between the different constitutional 
restrictions are bound to be numerous and of an elastic char¬ 
acter, it is clear that a state may put any number of negative 
restrictions into its constitution and still leave plenty of room 
for the legislature to oppress cities if it should be so inclined. 
This fact partly accounts for the popularity of that reform 
which has been called constitutional home rule for cities. 

The story of constitutional home rule begins with the inclu¬ 
sion of an article in the Missouri constitution of 1875, which 
authorized any city having a population of 100,000 inhabitants 
to frame a charter for its own government and prescribed a 
mode of procedure for the framing and adoption of such char¬ 
ters. The political origins of this historic constitutional enact¬ 
ment are somewhat obscure, but it seems to have been the cul¬ 
minating act of an ancient vendetta between rural and urban 
politicians. The only cities eligible for home rule under the 
terms of the constitution were St. Louis and Kansas City, and 
they have not made frequent or extensive use of their privilege. 
California followed Missouri’s example in 1879, and then came 
the newly admitted state of Washington in 1889. Thencefor¬ 
ward the list of adoptions is as follows: Minnesota (1896), 
Colorado (1902), Oregon (1906), Oklahoma (1907), Michigan 
(1908), Arizona (1912), Nebraska (1912), Ohio (1912), Texas 
(1912), Maryland 2 (1915), Pennsylvania 3 (1922), New York 
(1923), Wisconsin (1924). 

The variations in the terms of the different home-rule provi¬ 
sions are so numerous and extensive that it is impossible to give 
an accurate summary of them. Missouri, as we have seen, 
limits home rule to cities of 100,000 population; Minnesota and 
several other states extend the privilege to all municipalities 
regardless of population; Texas restricts it to cities of 5,000; 
Washington raises the limit to 20,000. Similar differences are 
found with reference to the character of the power bestowed. 
Missouri gives a home-rule city power to “ frame a charter for 
its own government, consistent with and subject to the Consti¬ 
tution and laws of this State.” Colorado bestows the same 
power plus an itemized list of powers which are declared to 
belong in the field of local self-government, and caps this with 
a clause which says, “ It is the intention of this article to grant 


Constitu¬ 
tional home 
rule for 
cities 


The diversity 
of home-rule 
provisions 


2 Applicable only to the city of Baltimore. 

3 Abortive thus far because not self-operating and mandatory. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The basic 
purpose of 
constitu¬ 
tional home 
rule 


64 

and confirm to the people of all municipalities coming within 
its provisions the full right of self-government in both local and 
municipal matters, and the enumeration herein of certain pow¬ 
ers shall not be construed to deny to such cities and towns, and 
to the people thereof, any right or power essential or proper to 
the full exercise of such right.” Michigan, in striking contrast 
to Missouri and Colorado, provides that, “ The legislature 
shall provide by general law for the incorporation of cities and 
by general law for the incorporation of villages. . . . Under 
such general laws the electors of each city and village shall 
have power and authority to frame, adopt, and amend its 
charter. ...” 

The foregoing examples show that a comparative study of 
home-rule provisions would be a highly involved and technical 
enterprise. For the expert, such studies are indispensable; but 
for our purposes they are not. The questions we need to an¬ 
swer in order to get at the fundamentals of home rule are: (1) 
What is the basic purpose of constitutional home rule? (2) 
What methods are used to effectuate this purpose, and what 
difficulties have arisen in the practical application of these 
methods? 

What is the basic purpose of constitutional home rule? It 
would be hard to say what the original framers of the several 
home-rule provisions of state constitutions conceived their fun¬ 
damental objects to be; for their minds were occupied as much 
with political as with juridical considerations. It is the latter 

— the fundamental legal purpose of constitutional home rule 

— which claims our attention. What can be the purpose of 
conferring home-rule powers upon municipalities by constitu¬ 
tional enactment? Simply this: to assign to municipalities a 
domain of governmental authority which will belong to them 
by virtue of a grant in the constitution and not by virtue of 
delegation through the medium of the legislature. Local self- 
government is to be made a constitutional prerogative of the 
city, and the legislature is to be eliminated as a direct factor in 
the process of central control. Under constitutional home rule 

— ideally, at any rate — central control should be effected 
solely through the medium of the constitution as interpreted 
and applied by the courts. In a sense, therefore, constitutional 
home rule is merely an extension of the federal principle to 
state government. The national constitution bisects the total 
quantum of governmental authority, assigning one portion to 


THE CITY AND THE STATE 


65 

the federal government and the other to the states. Neither the 
national government nor the state governments need look to 
any authority other than the constitution itself for power to 
proceed in the fields assigned to them. In like manner, under 
constitutional home rule, the state constitution essays to divide 
the total quantum of state power into two parts, one being 
assigned to municipalities in their own right by derivation from 
the constitution, and the other being assigned to the central 
government of the state. The constitution is the sole source of 
the right of local self-government and also of the right of gen¬ 
eral government; and when these two overlap or conflict it is 
the business of the courts as interpreters of the constitution to 
reconcile and adjust them. 

So much for the theory of the thing. Now comes our second 
question: What methods are used to effectuate this fundamen¬ 
tal purpose? Nearly all the constitutional grants of home-rule 
power are couched in broad, indefinite, and often ambiguous 
terms. The framers of these grants probably had only a vague 
notion of what should properly be included in the field of local 
self-government; and even though they may have had very 
definite ideas as to what they wished to do, they were probably 
forced by considerations of political expediency to confine them¬ 
selves to language general enough to seem fairly innocuous. In 
Missouri, as has been noted before, the constitution merely 
gives a home-rule city the right to “ frame a charter for its own 
government, subject to and consistent with the Constitution 
and laws of this State. . . .” The Ohio constitution says, 
“ Municipalities shall have authority to exercise all powers of 
local self-government and to adopt and enforce within their 
limits such local police, sanitary and other similar regulations, 
as are not in conflict with general laws.” The home-rule pro¬ 
vision of the constitution of Washington says, “ Any city con¬ 
taining a population of 20,000 inhabitants, or more, shall be 
permitted to frame a charter for its own government, consistent 
with and subject to the Constitution and laws of this State. 

. . . Any county, city, town, or township may make and en¬ 
force within its limits all such local, police, sanitary and other 
regulations as are not in conflict with general laws.” Language 
comparable with these three examples is to be found in the 
home-rule provisions of virtually all the home-rule states. In 
one or two cases, however, as for instance in Michigan, the 
doubts of the draftsmen of the home-rule article seem to have 


The methods 
of applying 
the home- 
rule principle 


66 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


What are 
local affairs? 


been so persistent that they expressly empowered the legisla¬ 
ture by general laws to mark out the domain of local self- 
government. 

Such doubts are well founded; for the question of the precise 
boundaries of that sphere of local affairs in which municipali¬ 
ties are to have the right of autonomous government is the 
pivotal issue in the problem of municipal home rule. No one 
has ever defined local or municipal affairs with such exactitude 
as to banish all doubts and eliminate all controversies. As Pro¬ 
fessor Munro has very pertinently remarked, “ No clear line of 
demarcation has been established nor can any principle be de¬ 
duced from the numerous court decisions.” The courts in each 
state, as concrete issues have arisen, have been obliged to 
wrestle with the question of local self-government and hew out 
a line of decisions that would effect some sort of differentiation 
between general and local affairs. Two things have seriously 
handicapped the courts in the performance of this task: (i) a 
total lack of precedents and (2) a prepossession in favor of 
the status quo, which is one of the inherent attributes of the 
judicial mind. It is not strange, therefore, that the courts have 
perpetrated numerous dialectic absurdities; it would have been 
strange if they had not. It is no use trying to reconcile the 
incongruous and contradictory decisions of the courts of the 
several home-rule states in construing the same or very similar 
language. It cannot be done, and is not worth doing anyhow. 
If the judicial tribunals of one state hold that home rule con¬ 
fers power to construct a building for theatrical purposes, while 
those of another state hold that it does not; if the courts of 
one jurisdiction hold that home rule does not empower a city 
to regulate its local utilities, while those of another hold that it 
does; if the courts of one state maintain that the phrase “ sub¬ 
ject to and consistent with the general laws ” means that any 
general enactment of the legislature will prevail over any local 
enactment on the same subject, while the courts of another 
state emphatically declare for a contrary interpretation — why, 
“ that’s that,” and there is little else to be said. The true ex¬ 
planation of these judicial inconsistencies is quite as likely to 
be found in the political background of the particular situa¬ 
tions before the courts as in the infirmities of the judicial mind. 

The practical outcome of all this confusion is just this: that 
cities under constitutional home rule have precisely as much 
local autonomy as the courts have been willing to concede 


THE CITY AND THE STATE 


67 

them. The most liberal tribunals in dealing with the home- 
rule power of cities have probably been the courts of Ohio, and 
the most niggardly have been the courts of Washington. The 
supreme court of Ohio has even gone so far as to hold that 
under some circumstances a municipal charter, framed under 
the home-rule provisions of the constitution, will take priority 
over a conflicting provision of the state constitution itself. 
The supreme court of Washington has ruled as follows: “ It 
must be remembered that although the power to frame a char¬ 
ter is conferred by the constitution, no greater intendments are 
inferred from that fact than if it were conferred by a mere act 
of the legislature, since, by the same sections, these favored 
cities are to be at all times subject to the general laws of the 
state. They are not in any sense erected into independent gov¬ 
ernments. ... A charter framed under the constitutional 
provision is of no more or larger force than a legislative charter, 
and can lawfully treat only of matters relating to the internal 
management and control of municipal affairs, subject to con¬ 
stitutional and legislative regulations.” 4 In effect, that is to 
say that the constitution gave home rule with one hand and 
took it away with the other. 

Between these two extremes the degrees of municipal inde¬ 
pendence under home rule vary as greatly as the number of 
judicial pronouncements on the subject. A few states, notably 
Colorado, have taken steps to limit the discretion of the courts 
by means of specific directions in the constitution. In 1912 
Colorado added to her home-rule clause, by the process of 
amendment, the following enumeration of powers declared to 
be in the domain of local self-government: 

a. The creation and terms of municipal officers, agencies and em¬ 
ployments; the definition, regulation and alteration of the powers, 
duties, qualifications and terms of tenure of all municipal officers, 
agents and employees; 

b. The creation of police courts; the definition and regulation of 
the jurisdiction, powers and duties thereof, and the election or ap¬ 
pointment of police magistrates therefor; 

c. The creation of municipal courts; the definition and regulation 
of the jurisdiction, powers and duties thereof, and the election or 
appointment of the officers thereof; 

d. All matters pertaining to municipal elections in such city or 
town or to electoral votes therein on measures submitted under the 
charter or ordinances thereof, including the calling or notice and the 

4 In re Cloherty, 2 Wash. 137. 


The courts 
determine 
the amount 
of home rule 
in every 
state. 


Attempts to 
limit the 
discretion 
of the courts 
by the 
enumeration 
of home-rule 
powers in the 
constitution 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Home-rule 

procedure 


68 

date of such election or vote, the registration of voters, nominations, 
nomination and election systems, judges and clerks of election, the 
form of ballots, balloting, challenging, canvassing, certifying the re¬ 
sult, securing the purity of elections, guarding against abuses of the 
elective franchise, and tending to make such elections or electoral 
votes nonpartisan in character; 

e. The issuance, refunding and liquidation of all kinds of municipal 
obligations including bonds and other obligations of park, water and 
local improvement districts; 

f. The consolidation and management of park or water districts 
in such cities or towns or within the jurisdiction thereof; but no 
such consolidation shall be effective until approved by the vote of a 
majority, in each district to be consolidated, of the qualified electors 
voting therein upon the question; 

g. The assessment of property in such city or town for municipal 
taxation and the levy and collection of taxes thereon for municipal 
purposes and special assessments for local improvements; such as¬ 
sessment, levy and collection of taxes and special assessments to be 
made by municipal officials or by the county or state officials as 
may be provided by the charter; 

h. The imposition, enforcement and collection of fines and penal¬ 
ties for the violation of any provisions of the charter or of any 
ordinance adopted in pursuance of the charter. 

This enumeration followed by the sweeping clause quoted on 
pages 63-64 above greatly narrows the ambit of judicial dialec¬ 
tics, and insures a stated minimum of municipal independence. 
Whether this process of constitutional demarcation of the 
sphere of municipal affairs will solve the problem, remains to 
be seen. It has the endorsement of many reputable authori¬ 
ties, including the National Municipal League, which has pre¬ 
pared a so-called model home-rule amendment along the lines 
followed in Colorado. 

Perhaps it will not be out of place at this point to insert a 
few remarks on the subject of home-rule procedure. There has 
been some controversy on the question of whether the home- 
rule provisions of state constitutions are self-executing, and 
conflicting decisions have been rendered. It has not proved 
to be a matter of great importance, for most cities desiring to 
avail themselves of the privileges of home rule have followed 
the charter procedure laid down in the home-rule provisions of 
the constitution. In a few cases the charter procedure is not 
prescribed by the constitution, but is left to the legislature or 
to the people directly through the initiative and referendum. 


THE CITY AND THE STATE 


69 

The favorite mode of procedure, as prescribed in state consti¬ 
tutions, is for the municipal council to initiate proceedings for 
the selection of a special board or commission to prepare a 
charter-draft for submission to popular vote. The alternative 
of initiation by popular petition also exists in a number of 
home-rule states. In some states it is possible to draft a new 
charter or amend an old one by the initiative and referendum 
alone. A number of the home-rule states also provide for the 
submission of home-rule charters to some state authority, as 
the governor or the legislature, before they finally take effect. 

We now come to the much-debated question of the merits of 
constitutional home rule. A great many arguments are ad¬ 
vanced on both sides of the question. The champion of home 
rule can make a very plausible case for his side of the argu¬ 
ment, and so can the opponent of home rule. In favor of con¬ 
stitutional home rule it is contended that it throws the respon¬ 
sibility for good or bad city government directly upon the 
people concerned; that it relieves the legislature of the burden 
of local legislation; that it exempts the city from pernicious 
intermeddling on the part of the legislature; that it stimulates 
interest among the people of the city in their own local affairs; 
and that it opens the way for experimentation in democratic 
forms and processes of government, which is a valuable thing 
from the point of view of social progress. Against municipal 
home rule the principal arguments are that it endangers the 
unity and sovereignty of the state; that it introduces unneces¬ 
sary variety and confusion into the forms and processes of 
municipal government; that it enables politically backward 
communities to resist general tides of progress; and that it is 
all right in theory but impossible to carry out in practice. 
The validity of these opposing arguments cannot be conclu¬ 
sively proved by appeal to the experience of the several home- 
rule states, for there is as yet no conclusive body of experience. 
Judged by the experience of one state, home rule may be said 
to justify the arguments of its proponents; judged by the ex¬ 
perience of another state, it may be said to justify the con¬ 
tentions of its enemies. Indeed there have been instances of 
sufficiently varied experience within a single state to lend sup¬ 
port to both sides of the question. 

Many of the objections to municipal home rule are founded 
upon misconceptions of the true nature and purpose of the 
reform. “ If cities and towns are entitled to complete self- 


The question 
of the suc¬ 
cess or 
failure of 
home rule 


The argu¬ 
ments pro 
and contra 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Some mis¬ 
conceptions 


Home rule 
has resulted 
in more 
liberal treat¬ 
ment of cities 
by both legis¬ 
latures and 
courts. 


70 

determination/’ queries Professor Munro, “ why not also the 
wards of a city? ” 5 The question is unfair because it is based 
upon an unwarranted assumption. It is not and never has 
been the purpose of constitutional home rule to give cities 
“ complete self-determination,” and no city under home rule 
has ever achieved anything like complete self-determination. 
The fundamental purpose of constitutional home rule, as we 
have observed before, is to change the locus and the modus 
operandi of central control. Instead of flowing from the con¬ 
stitution through a legislative transformer to the city, the cur¬ 
rents of political authority flow in a direct line from the 
constitution to the municipality. This does not give the city 
complete self-determination; in fact it often results in an in¬ 
crease of the severity of central control, because it subjects 
every municipal act to the possibility of review in the courts on 
the question of constitutionality. It does have the effect, how¬ 
ever, of placing the initiative in the management of their local 
affairs in the hands of the municipal authorities, and thus of 
enabling them to choose and pursue a course of their own until 
checked by the judicial veto. This in essence is not so differ¬ 
ent from European methods of central control; the principal 
point of difference is that European countries place the veto 
power in the hands of administrative officials, while the home- 
rule states in this country place it in the hands of the judiciary. 

Home rule should not be regarded as a panacea; it cannot 
even be regarded as an unqualified success. Nevertheless it has 
weakened, if not altogether broken, the stranglehold of the state 
legislature upon municipal affairs, and has given municipalities 
a more decisive voice in the working out of their own destinies. 
In commenting upon this subject some years ago the writer of 
these lines said, “ Regardless of the judicial interpretation of 
home rule, it will be found that cities are actually enjoying a 
far larger degree of independence and autonomy than ever 
before. Whether the courts take a liberal or an illiberal atti¬ 
tude in construing the home-rule powers of cities, it is a fact 
that they are obliged to take an attitude much more favorable 
to municipal independence than they assumed under the regime 
of legislative absolutism; they must approach the question of 
the status of the city from a wholly different standpoint. No 
longer is it possible to deny powers to the city simply because 
they cannot be traced to any legislative grant; on the contrary, 
5 Munro, The Government of American Cities (4th ed.), p. 87. 


THE CITY AND THE STATE 7I 

it is generally necessary to establish some irreconcilable conflict 
between powers claimed by the city and those belonging appro¬ 
priately to the state. It is not only the judicial attitude, but 
the legislative attitude as well that has been profoundly altered 
by the adoption of home rule. The legislature under home 
rule must be far more circumspect than even before in the 
enactment of laws pertaining to cities, because it can no longer 
proceed upon the assumption that its power extends to every¬ 
thing not explicitly forbidden to it.” 6 Nothing has occurred 
in the intervening years to warrant a modification of that 
judgment. 

One cogent reason why constitutional home rule has not 
eventuated and will not eventuate in complete self-determina¬ 
tion for cities is the growing integration of our social and eco¬ 
nomic life. The machine age has so accelerated the business of 
living, and has linked us so closely together by means of the 
telegraph, the telephone, the railway, the automobile, the air¬ 
plane, and other means of communication and transportation 
that we verily are, as the sacred book says, members all of one 
body. The old distinctions between what is local and what is 
general are being swept away; and many governmental func¬ 
tions that were formerly deemed of local or regional concern 
alone have been transformed into matters of widespread and 
general significance. The result has been a universal move¬ 
ment in the direction of functional centralization, in the course 
of which the state has gained at the expense of the city, the 
nation at the expense of the state, and, indeed, the international 
machinery of the world at the expense of the national state. 
As a consequence of this centralizing movement our state gov¬ 
ernments have been impelled to occupy, in whole or in part, 
many fields that were previously left almost exclusively to 
municipalities or other units of local government. This is 
notably true of such matters as education, public health, so¬ 
cial welfare, public utilities, law enforcement, and taxation. 
When the state enters such fields as these it usually takes over 
and administers directly some portions of the business and 
leaves others to be administered by local units of government 
under the control and supervision of executive officials of the 
state government. Thus we are gradually building up in this 
country a system of central functions locally administered un¬ 
der the watchful eye of a central bureaucracy. Such functions 
6 Maxey, An Outline of Municipal Government, p. 32. 


The growth 
of central 
administra¬ 
tive control 
is cutting 
down the 
scope of 
home rule. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The legal 
liability of 
municipal 
corporations 
in the United 
States 


* 


72 

do not lie in the domain of local affairs, and hence are not 
within the scope of home rule. 

Thus far we have not touched upon the question of the legal 
liability of municipal corporations. This is a highly technical 
question which constitutes a special field of study in itself. We 
shall content ourselves, therefore, with calling attention to just 
a few of the elementary considerations which it involves. It is 
an axiom of American law that the sovereign cannot be sued 
without its own consent. In practice this means that a private 
person cannot inaugurate legal proceedings against the state 
unless it has voluntarily waived its sovereign immunity. This 
immunity does not, however, extend to municipal corporations. 
They may be haled before the courts as defendants, and may 
have judgments rendered against them much as though they 
were private persons possessed of no governmental character. 
In matters of contract the liability of a municipal corporation 
is practically the same as that of a private person, which means 
that a private person may prosecute a suit for breach of contract 
against a municipality just as he would against another private 
person. 

In matters of tort, that is to say civil wrongs, the courts 
have made a distinction between wrongs committed by the city 
acting in a public and governmental capacity and wrongs per¬ 
petrated by the city acting in a private and proprietary capac¬ 
ity. No clear line of differentiation has been established be¬ 
tween the two categories just mentioned, and practicing lawyers 
are often misled by the incongruities found in the judicial deci¬ 
sions of a single state. In general it may be said that the city 
is not liable for the torts of its agents or employees when the 
acts or functions performed by them are of a public and gov¬ 
ernmental character — then the city is acting as the agent of 
the sovereign. But the city is held liable for the torts of its 
officials, agents, or employees when the duties or functions per¬ 
formed by them are of a private and proprietary character. It 
requires an extensive acquaintance with legal niceties to under¬ 
stand why a city should not be liable for the negligent and 
wrongful acts of its employees in the operation of a municipal 
hospital but should be liable for the wrongs of its servants in 
the operation of a municipal market. The reason is, of course, 
that the former is held to be public and governmental but the 
latter is private and proprietary. The rational basis of such 
distinctions as this is not apparent to the layman whose secur- 


THE CITY AND THE STATE 73 

ity and well-being are at the mercy of public servants regard¬ 
less of whether they are performing functions of one class or 
the other. Such distinctions are not recognized in England, 
municipalities in that country being held liable for all their 
torts. In this country a growing body of opinion is to the 
effect that the interests of justice and public welfare would be 
served by the abandonment of this kind of highly refined judi¬ 
cial hair-splitting. 


Selected References 

A. C. Hanford, Problems in Municipal Government, Chaps. I, II, 

III. 

C. C. Maxey, Readings in Municipal Government, Chap. II. 

W. B. Munro, The Government of American Cities (4th ed.), 

Chaps. IV, V, VI. 

T. H. Reed, Municipal Government in the United States, Chaps. 

VIII, IX. 

Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Make an investigation of the legal status of your own city and 
attempt to classify its powers under the following heads: (a) inde¬ 
feasible powers of local self-government, and (b) powers derived 
from legislative grants. Ascertain the basic sources of the powers 
listed in each group. 

2. What are the advantages of corporate organization for an urban 
community? 

3. Does your state constitution impose any restrictions upon the 
power of the legislature to deal with municipal corporations? Which 
of those restrictions do you conceive to be the most important and 
why? 

4. Defend the contention that special legislation for cities is not 
necessarily a bad thing. 

5. A constitutional convention in the state of X, assembled for 
the purpose of revising the entire constitution of the state, has ap¬ 
pointed a committee to prepare the sections of the proposed new 
constitution dealing with municipal corporations. The members of 
this committee express a desire to free cities from improper legis¬ 
lative interference and at the same time to preserve what they con¬ 
ceive to be a desirable superior authority and control on the part 
of the state government. If you were called upon to advise this 
committee, what would you suggest? 


Two extreme 
points of 
view as to 
the impor¬ 
tance of the 
form of 
government 


The rational 
position 


CHAPTER VIII 

THE STRUCTURE OF CITY GOVERNMENT 

Anyone who loves a fight will find ample opportunity to 
indulge his lust for combat in debating the question of the 
forms of city government. This is a perennial subject of con¬ 
troversy among American students of municipal government, 
and diametrically opposite opinions are entertained by authori¬ 
ties of unquestioned and equal eminence. Two issues are in¬ 
volved in the controversy: (i) whether the form or system of 
city government is a matter of any consequence in securing 
good city government, and (2) which particular system of city 
government is most likely to produce that beatific regime of 
efficiency and economy which is the ideal of all municipal re¬ 
formers. One school of dogmatists quotes with approval Pope’s 
couplet — 

“ For forms of government let fools contest, 

Whatever’s best administered is best.” 

— and solemnly avows a conviction that men and not machin¬ 
ery determine the quality of government. Good men, they say, 
will produce good government under any system of organiza¬ 
tion, and bad men will give bad government under the very 
best system of organization. At the opposite pole of opinion 
stands an equally dogmatic school of disputants who make a 
fetish of mechanistic reform. Their ideal is a fool-proof sys¬ 
tem of governmental machinery which will produce superior 
results regardless of the character of the men who admin¬ 
ister it. 

The truth undoubtedly lies between these two extremes. 
Enough experimentation with different systems of city govern¬ 
ment has been made to demonstrate that mechanistic perfec¬ 
tion holds no magic and also that good men may at times be 
fatally handicapped by unworkable machinery. No one who 
has followed the progress of scientific management in the busi¬ 
ness world can fail to be aware of the fact that there are such 


74 


STRUCTURE OF CITY GOVERNMENT 


is 

things as good organization, which facilitates good manage¬ 
ment, and bad organization, which impedes good management. 
These are everyday facts in the business world; but it is fan¬ 
tastic to assume that any scheme of organization can attain 
such perfection that the competence and integrity of the per¬ 
sons who operate it do not count at all. The intelligent student 
of political institutions should be quick to recognize the value 
of simple and effectively coordinated organization, and should 
endorse every reform which moves in that direction; but no 
person with a clear insight into the realities of politics will 
entertain any illusions as to the saving power of the most 
perfect system of government ever designed by human genius. 

Experience has been a most valuable teacher in throwing 
light upon the question of municipal organization, and has 
most emphatically driven home one lesson in particular: that 
it is entirely fallacious to suppose that the results experienced 
under a given plan of organization will be the same in the 
sphere of municipal government as they may have been under 
the same plan in regional, state, or national government. The 
organization of municipal government has a natural tendency 
to follow the example of the central government, but this has 
often proved to be a disappointment. There are such profound 
differences between the government of a city and that of a 
province, a state, or a nation that systems of government which 
may work well in the larger sphere often prove to be poorly 
adapted to the peculiarities of municipal government. The 
city is everywhere a subordinate agency of government and 
subject to the mandatory control of the higher authorities. 
The broad and fundamental questions of social, economic, and 
political policy are in the stewardship of the central govern¬ 
ment. The municipality, on the other hand, moves in a re¬ 
stricted sphere. It is usually treated as a child of tender age, 
to be constrained and guided by the parental authority of the 
central government. When freedom of action is given to the 
city, it is usually limited to strictly local questions having to 
do with more or less technical matters of municipal house¬ 
keeping which require more emphasis upon administration than 
upon the political phases of government. The compactness of 
the city brings the various organs of city government into 
close and continuous contact with the electorate, and this tends 
to lessen the need for the elaborate representative machinery 
which is found in regional and national government. The spe- 


The fallacy 
of modelling 
city govern¬ 
ment after 
state or 
national 
government 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Should the 
city deter¬ 
mine its 
own form of 
government? 


76 

cial needs of the city are somewhat different, therefore, from 
those of the central government. The city needs governmental 
machinery specially designed to handle an enormous volume 
of routine administrative work and to avoid the more compli¬ 
cated political processes that are necessary in government that 
deals more largely with political matters and, because of the 
large areas covered, does not come into direct daily contact 
with the people. 

More vexing even than the problem of adapting the system 
of government to the special needs of the city is the problem of 
whether the city should be permitted to choose its own form of 
government. Both sides of this question have their ardent 
champions. In behalf of municipal self-determination it is 
contended that the municipality understands its own needs far 
better than the central authorities do, that it should be allowed 
to build upon its own experience, and that it should be enabled 
to change its government as local conditions dictate instead of 
being obliged to risk the delay, expense, and uncertainty inci¬ 
dent to an appeal to the central authorities. On the other side 
of the question the argument is that the central government is 
obliged to impose some limitations upon municipal freedom in 
order to prevent cities from going to extremes which might en¬ 
danger the interests of the general government. The city per¬ 
forms a dual function, being both an agency of the central gov¬ 
ernment for local administration and an instrument of local 
self-government. It is argued, therefore, that if cities are per¬ 
mitted to change their governmental organization at will, they 
will frequently take steps that will be subversive of the inter¬ 
ests of the general government as well as deleterious to the wel¬ 
fare of the cities themselves. Furthermore, it is asserted that 
circumstances do not vary so greatly from city to city as to 
warrant indiscriminate diversity of municipal organization, and 
that a certain degree of uniformity is desirable from the point of 
view of both the central government and the best interests of the 
cities themselves. 

In practice the arguments in favor of uniformity under cen¬ 
tral control have usually outweighed those in behalf of munici¬ 
pal self-determination. The United States is the only country 
in the world in which there is a marked tendency to allow in¬ 
dividual cities much leeway in determining the organization and 
structure of their own government. Nor is this practice any¬ 
thing like universal in the United States. In England, France, 


STRUCTURE OF CITY GOVERNMENT 


77 

Germany, Italy, and other European countries, as will be seen 
in the next chapter, the form of municipal government is in¬ 
variably established by general law which is binding upon all 
municipalities alike. Minor deviations from the standard sys¬ 
tem of city government may be permitted sometimes by admin¬ 
istrative decree, and the code itself may authorize some de¬ 
partures from the general rule; but on the whole the form of 
city government in European countries is as stereotyped as 
statutes can make it. And there is no apparent inclination to 
forsake the rule of statutory uniformity in favor of a larger de¬ 
gree of municipal independence. The student who wishes to 
learn about the system of government in vogue in any Euro¬ 
pean city can ordinarily obtain all the needed information by 
consulting the municipal code of the country in which the city 
is situated. 

In the United States a study of the forms of city government 
presents greater difficulties. Following the American Revolu¬ 
tion the several state legislatures acquired full power to deal 
with municipal government in the different states but were not 
inclined at first to enact general and uniform municipal codes. 
They seemed to prefer as far as possible to deal with each city 
separately by special legislation. When cities were few and 
municipal problems relatively simple this practice was not open 
to serious objections and had the obvious advantage of securing 
elasticity and differentiation in the treatment accorded to cities. 
But the time came when the abuses of special legislation out¬ 
numbered and outweighed the advantages, and thereupon most 
of the states of the Union adopted constitutional provisions 
requiring the state legislature to deal with municipalities by 
general and uniform laws. The result was the enactment 
throughout the Union of uniform municipal codes applicable 
to all cities within the state adopting the code. These munici¬ 
pal codes were soon found to be almost as objectionable as the 
regime of special legislation. All cities were compressed into a 
single mould whether it was suited to their needs or not, and 
there was not, as in Europe, any possibility of relief by supple¬ 
mentary administrative action. Hence there arose throughout 
the country a vociferous demand for municipal freedom from 
legislative domination either by special or by uniform legisla¬ 
tion. This produced several types of reform. In some states 
the legislature complied with the demand for municipal free¬ 
dom by enacting permissive legislation which enabled cities, by 


Municipal 
self-determi¬ 
nation not 
common 


The chaotic 
situation in 
the United 
States 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The be¬ 
wildering 
variety of 
municipal 
systems in 
the United 
States 


7 $ 

conforming with certain requirements as to procedure, to frame 
and adopt charters of their own choosing. In other states the 
legislature enacted optional laws, which allowed cities to choose 
one of three or four systems of municipal government estab¬ 
lished by general law. And some sixteen states, as pointed out 
in Chapter VII, placed in their constitutions, and therefore be¬ 
yond the reach of the legislature, provisions guaranteeing to all 
municipalities, or to certain classes of municipalities, the right 
to frame and adopt charters for their own government without 
permissive authority from the state legislature. Moreover, in 
states where the power of the state legislature remains substan¬ 
tially unimpaired either by constitutional limitations or volun¬ 
tary concessions to municipalities, there has come to be a gen¬ 
eral disposition for the legislature to follow the requests of 
cities for changes in their governmental systems where such 
can be accomplished without encountering grave legal or 
political difficulties. 

The combined result of these different factors has been the 
evolution of many different systems and varieties of municipal 
government. As one surveys the municipal scene in the United 
States he is astonished not only by the various types of munici¬ 
pal organization, but also by the diversity of the legal bases 
underlying this mosaic. Here will be a city operating under 
the mayor-and-council plan as a result of a special charter 
granted by the state legislature; here will be another operating 
under the same system as the result of local election under an 
optional charter law; a third having the same system will have 
its charter based upon home rule legislation enacted by the 
state legislature; a fourth under substantially the same plan 
of government will have a home-rule charter adopted under 
provisions of the state constitution independent of legislative 
authorization; and a fifth will have the very same system of 
government imposed upon it by the terms of a uniform munici¬ 
pal code. Cities by the hundreds operate under the commis¬ 
sion plan, the manager plan, and various other plans, the legal 
foundations of which vary as widely as in the case of the mayor- 
and-council plan mentioned above. It is no wonder that Amer¬ 
ican municipal government is bewildering to the foreigner; it 
is baffling to the American himself unless he be something of a 
specialist. 

As a consequence of the amazing variety of municipal forms 
in the United States we have a type of municipal problem that 


STRUCTURE OF CITY GOVERNMENT 


79 

is not encountered elsewhere in the world. With us each par¬ 
ticular type of municipal government has become a storm cen¬ 
ter, and the question of its merits as compared with other 
systems is argued with the utmost vehemence. Likewise each 
system of basic legal control has its champions and opponents, 
and so gives rise to strenuous controversies. An American city 
may be convulsed over the question of whether it should sub¬ 
stitute one plan of government for another, and at the same 
time there may be a violent controversy as to whether the city 
should have the right to frame and adopt its own charter or be 
subject to some sort of legislative restriction. The urbanite on 
the other side of the Atlantic escapes this endless round of con¬ 
troversy, and escapes much of the complexity and perplexity, 
and also perhaps much of the gayety, which characterize mu¬ 
nicipal politics in the United States. 

Selected References 

W. B. Munro, The Government of American Cities (4th ed.), Chap. 

XIV. 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Do you think it wise to allow cities absolute freedom in choos¬ 
ing their own forms of government? Are there any dangers in this 
practice? 

2. Why is there such diversity in the structure of municipal gov¬ 
ernment in the United States? 

3. When a city has conspicuously bad or conspicuously good gov¬ 
ernment, how would you determine whether the blame or credit 
should be attributed to the form of city government or to other 
causes? 


The contro¬ 
versial nature 
of the 
municipal 
question In 
the United 
States 


CHAPTER IX 

EUROPEAN SYSTEMS OF CITY GOVERNMENT 


Suggested 
reasons for 
uniformity 
of municipal 
organization 
in European 
countries 


Although European countries have not exhibited the same 
predilection for experimentation in the organization of munici¬ 
pal government that has been characteristic of municipal de¬ 
velopment in the United States, it is true, nevertheless, that 
the evolution of municipal institutions in Europe has been 
accompanied by profound and sweeping changes. These 
changes have come much less frequently than in the United 
States, with much less of the trial-and-error attitude, and with 
very much less deviation from the uniform type. 

It is not easy to find a simple or wholly satisfactory explana¬ 
tion for this striking contrast between European and American 
experience. The causes are numerous and complex, and do not 
operate in identical correlations in any two countries. There 
is some food for thought in the fact that the United States is a 
country of continental magnitude with a federal system of gov¬ 
ernment, whereas most of the European countries occupy rela¬ 
tively small and compact territories and have unitary systems 
of government. Certainly there is less incentive to diversify, 
less need for it, and less chance for it in a small country whose 
local institutions are in the final custody of a single central 
government than in a spacious continental empire whose local 
institutions are regulated and controlled by forty-eight com¬ 
ponent states. It is also probable that the administrative sys¬ 
tem of central control, prevailing to some degree in all Euro¬ 
pean countries, has introduced an element of elasticity into the 
processes of municipal government which has had the effect 
of rendering the uniform system of municipal government 
adaptable to widely differing circumstances. The legislative 
system of central control which obtains in the United States, 
lacking this flexibility, forces cities to seek relief through pres¬ 
sure upon the legislature for structural changes rather than 
through administrative adjustment as in Europe. Another 
thing to be borne in mind, also, is the greater stability of in- 

80 


EUROPEAN CITY GOVERNMENT 8l 

stitutional life in Europe than in the United States, the slower 
rate of social and economic change, and the prepotent influence 
of a historical background covering a span of several centuries. 

Because it is the mother of American municipal institutions, 
English city government probably has more interest for Ameri¬ 
cans than any other system of city government in Europe. 
Present-day municipal government in England, although it 
rests upon a statutory foundation, is really the culmination of 
an unbroken process of evolution which may be traced back as 
far as the primitive Saxon borough. The Municipal Corpora¬ 
tions Act of 1835 represents the first attempt of Parliament to 
enact legislation dealing with municipal institutions in a broad 
and comprehensive way. It covered such matters as central 
control, the scope and extent of municipal functions, and the 
organization and procedure of municipal government. But, as 
Professor Munro emphatically declares, it “ did not make any 
break in the continuity of English municipal development. It 
changed the basis of borough government from usage to statute, 
from a mass of customs to a code. But it did not . . . wipe 
the slate clean and begin anew. It merely endeavored to trans¬ 
form into reality what had been the theory of English borough 
government for many centuries.” 1 The Act of 1835 was fol¬ 
lowed in course of time by many pieces of supplementary legis¬ 
lation, and in 1882 a consolidating statute was passed for the 
purpose of bringing together all previous legislation as a single, 
comprehensive municipal code. This so-called Municipal Cor¬ 
porations Act of 1882 plus the statutory enactments which 
have accumulated since that time forms the basis of municipal 
government in England today. The municipal corporations 
law provides for the chartering of urban communities as bor¬ 
oughs, and urban communities which are not so chartered are 
not, from the legal point of view, municipalities. Such com¬ 
munities are governed under the provisions of a statute enacted 
in 1894, which provided for the creation and government of 
entities to be known as urban and rural districts. 

With the exception of metropolitan London and one or two 
other places enjoying special dispensations, the municipal code 
of England prescribes a uniform system of government for all 
municipalities. All municipal corporations are known as bor¬ 
oughs, though not all boroughs are municipal corporations. 
The particular boroughs which come under the provisions of 

1 Munro, The Government of European Cities (rev. ed.), pp. 21-22. 


Municipal 
government 
in England 


The munici¬ 
pal code 


The borough 


82 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The organic 
unity of 
borough 
government 


The compo¬ 
sition of the 
council 


the municipal code are designated generally as municipal bor¬ 
oughs and county boroughs. A county borough is a municipal 
borough that has attained a population of 50,000 and has been 
therefore juridically detached from its county and made into 
a separate county with a combined city and county govern¬ 
ment. The term “ city ” is used in a restricted sense in Eng¬ 
land. A city is a municipal or county borough which is, or has 
been, the resident seat of a bishop or archbishop, or which has 
had the title of city conferred upon it by royal grant. The 
elevation of a borough to the status of a city makes no differ¬ 
ence in its government except that its mayor is transformed 
into a lord mayor with all the privileges and dignities appur¬ 
tenant thereto. 

The most striking fact about English municipal government, 
from the American point of view, is its organic unity. Every 
phase of the governmental process centers in, or revolves about, 
the town council, as it is called in the British vernacular. 
There is no organic differentiation, no separation of powers, 
no system of checks and balances; the council is the “whole 
works ” in the government of the borough. It possesses and 
exercises all the powers which the law bestows upon municipal 
corporations; it enacts municipal ordinances or by-laws, directs 
and controls the execution of its own legislation, chooses the 
mayor and all other important officials and employees, manages 
the finances of the borough, and assumes responsibility for all 
other matters which may require attention or action at the 
hands of the municipal authorities. 

The members of this omnicompetent body are of two classes, 
known as councillors and aldermen. Subject to the require¬ 
ments of the general municipal code, the number of councillors 
is determined by a provision in the borough charter. The 
number varies according to the population of the borough, be¬ 
ing commonly in excess of fifty and not infrequently in excess 
of one hundred. The councillors represent subdivisions of the 
borough known as wards, and are elected by direct vote of the 
qualified electors of the ward. The number of councillors from 
each ward may be three, six, or nine. They are elected for 
three-year rotating terms, so that each ward annually elects 
one-third of its total representation in the council. The aider- 
men are not elected by popular vote, but are chosen by the 
councillors from their own ranks or from outside as they pre¬ 
fer. In case a councillor is chosen to be an alderman, his seat 


EUROPEAN CITY GOVERNMENT 


83 

as councillor is vacated and is filled at a by-election. There are 
one-third as many aldermen as councillors, and they are elected 
for a term of six years. Aside from this their position in the 
council is virtually the same as that of the councillors. The 
councillors and aldermen sitting together as a single-chambered 
body constitute the town council. 

The mayor and all the executive officials and employees of 
the municipality are chosen by, or with, the approval of the 
town council. It also has the power to suspend or remove any 
or all members of the administrative establishment, and to 
control and supervise in utmost detail all activities carried on 
by the different administrative agencies. 

The mayor, or lord mayor, as the case may be, is chosen an¬ 
nually by the council. The council may choose one of its own 
members or may bestow this distinction upon an outsider. The 
office is one of great honor; but it is an expensive luxury, and 
the council usually endeavors to award it to a wealthy citizen 
whose purse will stand the strain. The mayor is the presiding 
officer of the council and titular head of the government of 
the borough, but his position is one of prestige without power. 
He has no executive functions whatsoever and exerts little 
direct influence upon legislation. Nevertheless the mayor may, 
if he be a person of prominence, discretion, and keen under¬ 
standing of human problems, exert an enormous influence upon 
the processes of municipal government in an indirect and un¬ 
official way. Because of his wealth and social prominence and 
because also of his detached and independent position with 
reference to current political controversies, it is possible for 
him to perform invaluable services as an emollient. He may 
advise, mediate, coordinate, conciliate, suggest, and stimulate. 
He may be the most powerless member of the city government, 
but he is also the most distinguished and honored member. If 
he has the personal qualities to match his eminence, he may 
render to his city statesmanlike services of a very high order. 

The council regularly appoints a number of other city offi¬ 
cials in addition to the mayor. The most prominent of these 
are the town clerk, the borough surveyor or engineer, the bor¬ 
ough treasurer, the chief constable, and the medical officer of 
health. These officials are not appointed for a fixed term of 
office but hold office at the pleasure of the council, which means 
in practice that they are retained as long as they give satisfac¬ 
tion. The town clerk is the most interesting, and probably the 


How execu¬ 
tive officials 
are chosen 


The mayor 


The depart¬ 
ment heads 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The selection 
of adminis¬ 
trative jier- 
sonnel 


84 

most important of these various functionaries. He is secretary 
of the council and of its several committees; he is also the chief 
secretarial and custodial officer of the borough; he has charge 
of the registration of voters; he is commonly a lawyer and acts 
as legal adviser of the borough; he is legislative draftsman for 
the council; he serves as a point of contact and channel of 
communication between the borough and the central authori¬ 
ties; and in addition to the foregoing he transacts many other 
items of business imposed upon him by the council. He is, in 
short, the main cog of the administrative system, the one with 
which all others must mesh in order to make the machinery 
run. The surveyor has charge of the public works of the mu¬ 
nicipality; the treasurer has charge of accounts, disbursements, 
and finance; the chief constable is head of the police depart¬ 
ment; the medical officer has charge of the health department. 
If there are other departments, such as fire, parks, waterworks, 
or public utilities, the superintendents of these departments are 
also appointed and controlled by the council. 

All administrative functionaries, as has been stated above, 
are subject to appointment and removal by the council at will. 
It is a general rule, however, that they shall enjoy permanent 
tenure and shall be removed only for cause. This is a matter 
of usage and not of law. Custom also dictates that the initial 
appointments shall be made on the basis of merit rather than 
upon the basis of political influence. Legally the council’s 
freedom of choice is not greatly restricted, but as a matter of 
practice vacancies are filled by procedure which lays great 
stress upon the special qualifications of the candidates. The 
existence of the vacancy is advertised in the various municipal 
journals and the more widely read newspapers, and properly 
qualified persons are invited to submit applications. From 
the list of applicants thus secured the council selects a person 
to fill the vacancy. Consistent adherence to this procedure 
has elevated municipal service in Great Britain to the rank of 
a profession. A man may start in a very humble position in 
one of the municipal departments of a provincial city and ad¬ 
vance step by step to a department headship in one of the 
largest municipalities of the kingdom. When a young man 
enters the service of one of the British municipalities, no matter 
how insignificant the position he takes at first, he has the as¬ 
surance of a career before him if he develops the requisite 
qualifications. He will gradually move up from lower positions 


EUROPEAN CITY GOVERNMENT 85 

to higher ones, from smaller municipalities to larger ones, until 
he has achieved a high rank and a generous salary. It is, of 
course, largely a matter of custom that this procedure should be 
followed; but it is a most fortunate custom, for it is mainly 
responsible for the excellence of municipal administration in 
English cities. 

Custom has also transformed the process of municipal gov¬ 
ernment in England in another significant particular. Nomi¬ 
nally the council functions as a whole in the discharge of its 
manifold tasks, but actually the work is largely accomplished 
through the medium of a series of standing committees. There 
is a standing committee for each important municipal function, 
the members of each committee being elected by the council for 
a term of one year upon the nomination of a special committee 
of selection. But custom decrees that, although the commit¬ 
tees are reelected annually, once a member of the council has 
been assigned to a given committee he shall have the privilege 
of retaining that assignment as long as he remains in the coun¬ 
cil if he so desire. Thus there is achieved a permanence and 
continuity of committee personnel which enormously enhances 
the prestige and proficiency of the committee. Each committee 
tends to become a miniature council, dealing with a single 
phase of municipal government, and the long experience and 
thorough familiarity of the members of the committee with 
that one subject enable the committee under normal conditions 
to sway the council about as it will. In fact the council leans 
heavily upon its committees and virtually deputizes them to do 
the work of the council in the particular fields assigned to them. 
The permanent administrative officials in each department are 
chosen by the council, but in so doing the council usually ad¬ 
heres to the recommendations of the committee or committees 
having to do with the work of that department. This results 
in establishing a close bond between the several committees 
and the permanent officials who are in charge of the adminis¬ 
trative services dealing with the functions delegated to the 
different committees. The chief constable and the police de¬ 
partment become a sort of technical staff for the watch com¬ 
mittee; the superintendent of waterworks and his subordinates 
bear a like relation to the water committee, the medical officer 
to the health committee, the surveyor to the public works com¬ 
mittee, and so on. All important proposals and decisions are 
first threshed out by the committee and the permanent officials 


The im¬ 
portance of 
the com¬ 
mittee 
system 


Committees 
direct ad¬ 
ministration. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Municipal 
government 
in France 


The modern 
commune 


86 

in charge of the particular functions involved, and are then 
passed on to the council with recommendations. At first glance 
this system of procedure would seem to preclude all possibility 
of coordination between the different committees and depart¬ 
ments ; but here is where the town clerk and the mayor do yeo¬ 
man service. The town clerk is secretary of all committees, as 
well as secretary of the council, and the mayor is ex officio a 
member of all standing committees. The personal influence 
of the mayor together with the compendious information and 
sound, expert judgment of the town clerk are the means of 
bringing order out of impending chaos by effecting harmonious 
cooperation between committees and departments. 

The French system of city government bears only a super¬ 
ficial resemblance to the English system. We find some of the 
same terms — council, mayor, etc., — but the resemblance does 
not go much beyond similarity of terms. Modern French mu¬ 
nicipal government dates from the regime of the first Napoleon. 
The Revolution had swept everything before it, and Napoleon 
had a clear field for constructive innovation. What he did was 
to turn his back upon the Revolutionary experiments with local 
self-government and to regiment the local institutions of 
France in the same fashion as he organized his armies. France 
was divided into 83 departments, and over each of these terri¬ 
torial subdivisions of the country was placed an official known 
as the prefect, appointed by and responsible to the central gov¬ 
ernment at Paris — in other words to Napoleon himself. Each 
department was in turn cut up into arrondissements, and each 
of these was presided over by a subprefect, a subaltern of the 
prefect appointed by and responsible to the central authorities. 
Each of the arrondissements was divided into communes, and 
these were governed by a mayor, one or more adjoints, and a 
council, all of whom were appointed by the central authorities 
upon recommendation of the prefects and subprefects. This 
system, with one or two notable exceptions, has survived the 
turbulent vicissitudes of post-Napoleonic history and stands 
intact today. The voters of the commune are now permitted 
to elect their own council, and the council in turn chooses the 
mayor and adjoints; but these locally chosen functionaries are 
so closely tethered by the iron hand of central authority that 
many Frenchmen entertain cynical doubts as to the reality of 
local government in the French Republic. 

The commune, which is the basic unit of local administration, 


EUROPEAN CITY GOVERNMENT 


87 

is not necessarily a municipality in the American or English 
sense of that term. It may be a purely rural area, a country 
village, a moderate-sized town, or a big city. But all com¬ 
munes are governed under the same basic law — the Lot mu- 
nicipale of 1884 — and have practically the same governmental 
organization. Paris is the one conspicuous exception; it forms 
a separate department, known as the Department of the Seine, 
and the government of Paris includes a considerable variety of 
local units. 

The council of the commune is elected by direct popular vote 
on the basis of universal manhood suffrage. In communes of 
less than 10,000 inhabitants the councillors are elected at large; 
but if the population exceeds 10,000 the commune may be 
divided into wards for electoral purposes. The number of 
councillors varies, according to the provisions of the municipal 
code, with the size of the commune. The minimum number 
of councillors is ten and the maximum is thirty-six, but there 
are one or two communes with a larger council than thirty-six. 
The first and most important business of a newly elected coun¬ 
cil is to choose, for a term of four years, the mayor and the 
adjoints. The adjoints are personal deputies or assistants to 
the mayor, and their number varies from one to twelve accord¬ 
ing to the population of the commune. The mayor and ad¬ 
joints are selected from the membership of the council itself, 
and do not surrender their seats in the council as a result of 
their elevation to executive posts. As has been explained in 
Chapter VI, the powers of the communal council are greatly 
circumscribed by the potent and grasping hand of central 
authority. Within the field assigned to it the council is sup¬ 
posed to be the policy-determining organ of the communal gov¬ 
ernment; but so many matters require the approval of the 
prefect, or are open to prefectural intervention, that one gets 
the impression that most of the acts of the council are of a 
tentative character. 

The mayor and the adjoints head up the executive machinery 
of the commune. They are also members of the council, elected 
to their executive positions by the council itself, but they are 
not humble servants of the council. Neither are they inde¬ 
pendent executive officials. They are indebted to the council 
for their executive offices and would not be so honored if they 
could not possess and retain the confidence and support of the 
council. They could not be expected, therefore, to make a 


The council: 
composition 
and functions 


The execu¬ 
tive machin¬ 
ery of the 
commune 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The mayor 


The mayor’s 
functions 


88 

business of antagonizing or defying the council. On the other 
hand, they are invested by law with many independent powers 
and prerogatives, and in the performance of many of their 
duties are required to proceed more or less independently. In 
fact they are responsible to the prefect about as much as to 
the council. Usually there is worked out a nice adjustment of 
personal, political, and legal relations between the council and 
its executive members which avoids serious friction and pro¬ 
duces effective cooperation. 

Monsieur le maire is the chief dignitary of the French com¬ 
mune. Usually he is a man who has seen long service in the 
council and has by his artful tactics as a politician built up a 
large measure of good will both in the council and in the com¬ 
munity at large. As mayor he enjoys a ceremonial precedence 
that is dear to the heart of every Frenchman, and has planted 
his foot upon the first rung of a ladder leading to almost cer¬ 
tain advancement in national politics should he aspire to a 
career in the national political arena. But the office carries 
more than titular dignity and prestige. The French mayor 
wields real power. With one or two important exceptions, he 
appoints all administrative officials of the commune from top 
to bottom. In the case of police officials the mayor’s appoint¬ 
ments must be ratified by the prefect, but otherwise his dis¬ 
cretion in making appointments is subject to no limitations 
except the stipulations of the general laws and the civil service 
rules as to the special qualifications required of the incum¬ 
bents of different positions. The mayor’s power to suspend 
and remove is provisional; he takes the initiative, but final 
action rests with a special disciplinary council made up of the 
mayor, four councillors designated by the council, and two 
employees of the same rank as the arraigned employee. 

The mayor has extensive powers and duties in relation to the 
financial affairs of the commune. He is general overseer of the 
collection of revenues, must prepare and submit to the council 
an annual analysis of the financial condition of the commune, 
and is responsible for the preparation and submission to the 
council of the annual budget. The mayor is responsible as a 
general supervisor for the management of all public property 
and for the handling of the invested funds of the commune. He 
has exceptionally important functions with reference to the po¬ 
lice department. The heads of the police department are ap¬ 
pointed by the President of the Republic; the ordinary gen- 


EUROPEAN CITY GOVERNMENT 89 

darmes (patrolmen) are appointed by the Minister of War upon 
the request of the mayor; all the clerical and special officers are 
appointed by the mayor with the approval of the prefect. The 
actual day-to-day management of the police force of the city is 
in the hands of the mayor; but he proceeds under the vigilant 
supervision of the prefect, and is restricted by an imposing 
array of general laws and special decrees. 

Perhaps the unique function of the French mayor is the 
issuance and promulgation of ordinances and decrees known as 
arrets. It is his duty to issue decrees carrying out in detail 
the actions of the National Parliament, of the President of the 
Republic and his ministers, and of the council of the commune. 
He may also issue and enforce decrees upon his own initiative, 
provided they do not conflict with the general laws. In the 
exercise of this latter function, however, the mayor is almost 
completely under the thumb of the central government. The 
powers that have been enumerated here do not by any means 
exhaust the functions of the mayor. He has many duties of 
a more routine character, such as the compilation of vital sta¬ 
tistics, the compilation of the register of voters, the supervision 
of elections, and the upkeep of minor streets. In addition to 
all these duties he acts as presiding officer of the council. Sine¬ 
cure? Idle honor? Certainly no one in France leads a busier 
life than Monsieur le maire. 

The relation of the adjoints to the mayor depends largely 
upon the personality of the latter. Nominally the adjoints are 
assistants or helpers of the mayor. The mayor is expected to 
distribute the functions of administration among the adjoints 
in such a way that there will be one adjoint for each important 
division of the administrative service. They do not function 
as heads of departments, but rather as contact men and official 
observers representing the mayor. The assignment of func¬ 
tions to the adjoints is in the hands of the mayor, and by this 
means he is able to control their relationship to himself and the 
administration. A vigorous, aggressive, and ambitious mayor 
will not rely overmuch upon his adjoints, but a mayor of the 
more passive type will lean heavily upon them. The ad¬ 
joints are not full-time, professional officials; they are laymen 
— members of the council — devoting only such time to pub¬ 
lic service as they can spare from their private affairs. The 
same is true theoretically of the mayor, but in the larger com¬ 
munes the mayor is obliged to give practically all his time to 


The ordi¬ 
nance power 
of the mayor 


The adjoints 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The com¬ 
mittee sys¬ 
tem 


The per¬ 
manent ad¬ 
ministrative 
establish¬ 
ment 


German city 
government 


90 

public affairs. For this devotion to public service his only 
reward is honor; no salary is attached to the office. 

The French municipal council, despite the fact that the 
heads of the administrative establishment are its appointees, 
does not enjoy a close and constant contact with the details of 
administration. There is a committee of the council for each 
important division of the administrative service, but the func¬ 
tions of these committees are primarily of an advisory and 
consultative character. They seldom take a direct hand in 
the business of administration as English, and sometimes 
American, councilmanic committees do. The chasm between 
legislation and administration is bridged over at one point only, 
through the office of mayor. 

The routine operations of administration in the French city 
are carried on by a permanent administrative establishment 
under civil service rules, or, in the case of department heads, 
under stringent statutory regulations. Councils, mayors, ad- 
joints come and go, but these professional public servants go 
serenely on with the daily business of municipal housekeeping. 
Secretaire, receveur, commissaire, and the various chefs de 
service — these and their numerous subordinates are the per¬ 
sonages who take Jean Citoyen in hand and put him through 
the fine-grinding mill of meticulous bureaucracy. 

German cities did not emerge from mediaevalism until after 
the conquests of Napoleon had shattered the old order and 
opened the way for complete reconstruction. When, after the 
reverses suffered by the imperious Corsican, the German states 
were free to administer their own affairs again, they proceeded 
to make radical changes in municipal government. Prussia 
adopted a comprehensive municipal code in 1808, and this was 
subjected to extensive revision in 1853. During the same 
period most of the other German states followed the example 
of Prussia and put into operation municipal codes patterned 
more or less after the Prussian model. Thus even before the 
achievement of national unity in 1871 there was substantial 
uniformity of municipal government throughout Germany. No 
material change was made in municipal institutions by the 
adoption of the imperial constitution in 1871, and from that 
time forward until the adoption of the republican constitution 
in 1918 German city government continued to bear the unmis¬ 
takable stamp of 1808 and 1853. The revolution of 1918 and 
the republican constitutional system adopted in consequence 


EUROPEAN CITY GOVERNMENT 


91 

thereof made no considerable changes in the structure of city 
government; but there were two noteworthy changes in the 
legal and political basis of city government. 

The codes of 1808 and 1853 followed the principle of bestow¬ 
ing broad and indefinite powers upon municipalities, subject to 
the proviso that nothing should be done to contravene the gen¬ 
eral laws and that the sanction of the central administrative 
authorities should be necessary for the validity of a great many 
of the acts of municipal government. This made it possible to 
develop in Germany, and particularly in Prussia, a system of 
central control every bit as highly centralized and regimented 
as that of France. From the Minister of the Interior the line 
of control ran to the various provincial presidents, from them 
to the district presidents, and thence to the municipal authori¬ 
ties. German bureaucracy was no less arbitrary and grasping 
than French officialdom, and as a result, whatever may have 
been the intent of the codes, German cities did not in practice 
enjoy any appreciable amount of local autonomy. The revo¬ 
lution of 1918 resulted not only in the adoption of a new na¬ 
tional constitution, but also set in motion a wholesale revision 
of state constitutions and municipal codes. Virtually all these 
revised instruments undertake to guarantee municipal auton¬ 
omy, subject to a certain degree of necessary central control. 
What the outcome of this will be no one can say. Sufficient 
time has not elapsed for it to bear fruit yet, and only time will 
prove whether the German mind can accommodate itself to 
genuine local freedom. 

The second noteworthy departure from the old regime is the 
new basis of suffrage. Under the old system the members of 
the municipal council were elected by a curious three-class 
system of voting. All male German citizens twenty-four years 
of age or over were entitled to vote upon satisfaction of the 
residence requirement plus a taxpaying or property-owning re¬ 
quirement. This meant practically universal manhood suf¬ 
frage; but the votes of the electors were not of equal weight. 
The total electorate was divided into three groups, according 
to the amount of taxes paid by each, and each of these groups 
elected one-third of the membership of the council. Thus the 
first group would consist of a small number of large taxpayers, 
which would elect a third of the councillors; the second group 
would consist of a large number of moderate taxpayers, which 
would elect a third of the councillors; the third group, contain- 


Little local 
autonomy 
prior to 1918 


The new 
basis of 
suffrage 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Types of city 
government 
in Germany 


The magis¬ 
terial system 


92 

ing the great mass of voters who were very small taxpayers, 
would elect only a third of the councillors. This utterly un¬ 
democratic system of election has been displaced by universal, 
equal suffrage with proportional representation. 

Germany has three general types of city government. The 
most common type is the Prussian system, often called the 
“ magisterial ” type. This type has a municipal council con¬ 
taining from eleven to upwards of a hundred members, the 
number varying with the population of the city. The council 
is purely a deliberative and policy-determining body. It 
chooses the administrative board ( Magistrat) and the burgo¬ 
master. The size of the administrative board is determined by 
vote of the council. It contains two classes of members — 
professional members, who receive pay and devote their whole 
time to the service of the city, and lay members, who receive 
no pay. The professional members have a term of twelve years, 
and the unpaid members a term of four years. The paid 
magistrates are trained experts who are hired to manage the 
business of the city just as corporation executives are hired to 
manage the affairs of the corporation. Each of them is head 
of an administrative department, and, sitting together with the 
unpaid lay members, they constitute the executive directorate 
of the city. The burgomaster (sometimes there are two burgo¬ 
masters) is also a trained expert who is hired for a term of 
twelve years. He does not assume the headship of any specific 
department, but is responsible for general oversight and super¬ 
vision of all municipal business. He sits with the administra¬ 
tive board, but not as a directing superior. His function is 
that of coordination, adjustment, and general administration. 
The other professional members of the administrative board 
have specific departments to look after; the burgomaster has 
a roving commission, and must look after the interests of the 
city as a whole. One other feature of this system deserves 
brief notice, namely, the joint commissions, or Deputationen. 
These are elected by the city council, one for each administra¬ 
tive department. Each joint commission consists of a paid 
magistrate, one or more unpaid magistrates, several members 
of the council, and a few private citizens. The joint commis¬ 
sion is a sort of liaison agency between the magistrates, the 
council, and the general body of citizens. It enjoys very little 
definitive power but is capable of exerting great influence by 
way of advice and suggestion. 


European City government 93 

The other two systems of city government in Germany are 
not by any means as extensively employed as the magisterial 
system. The Rhine Province dispenses with the administrative 
board, and confers administrative authority upon the burgo¬ 
master alone. He is then given a number of assistants or 
deputies to enable him to carry on the details of administra¬ 
tion. The position of the burgomaster under this system is 
somewhat like that of the city manager in the United States. 
Several of the South German states have a councilmanic sys¬ 
tem. The council is made up of elective members and ap¬ 
pointed magistrates, but functions as a single organ of govern¬ 
ment. The magistrates are simply executive members of the 
council, who, in addition to joining in the regular work of the 
council, carry on the administrative services of the city. This 
system is somewhat like the British plan. 

Our survey of European systems of city government has now 
covered all of the major European states except Russia and 
Italy. Both of these countries are at present under the do¬ 
minion of military dictators, and -it is very doubtful whether 
their present municipal institutions will outlast the duration 
of the dictatorship. In Russia the soviet system is applied to 
municipalities in much the same way as to larger governmental 
areas. The urban soviets are provided for in the Bolshevik 
constitution of 1918, and are chosen by primary assemblies of 
workers in factories and shops. The soviet is a commission en¬ 
dowed with plenary power to govern. In its sphere it may be 
legislature, executive, and judiciary all rolled into one, or it 
may delegate its power as it sees fit to special agencies consti¬ 
tuted by it. In Italy the long-established system of municipal 
government has been suspended by two decrees of Mussolini 
which place the government of each city in the hands of a 
proconsul ( podesta) appointed by the central government. 
This Fascist viceroy has associated with him an advisory coun¬ 
cil containing local representation not unacceptable to the cen¬ 
tral authorities; but it has no power to control or determine 
his actions. 

City government in the minor European countries exhibits 
many interesting features, but none of sufficient singularity or 
significance to warrant treatment in a brief survey such as has 
been undertaken in this chapter. 


Other Ger¬ 
man systems 


City govern¬ 
ment in 
Russia and 
Italy 


94 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Selected References 

E. S. Griffith, Modern Development in City Government, Vol. I, 
Chaps. II, IV, VI. 

B. W. Maxwell, Contemporary Municipal Government of Ger¬ 
many, Chaps. IV, V. 

W. B. Munro, The Government of European Cities (rev. ed.), 
Chaps. VI, VII, VIII, XV, XVI, XVII, XX, XXI. 

W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. I, 
Chaps. XVIII, XIX. 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Which features of the English system of municipal govern¬ 
ment do you consider the least conformable with American ideas as 
to municipal organization and procedure? Would the English sys¬ 
tem work in this country? 

2. Which features of the French municipal system stand out in 
your mind as the most significant by contrast with the English sys¬ 
tem? Would the English system benefit by borrowing some features 
of the French system? 

3. Can you suggest any reason why there should be greater diver¬ 
sity of municipal organization in Germany than in England and 
France? 

4. Could it be said that the administrative system of English 
cities functions in reality very much like the administrative board 
in German cities? List the similarities and dissimilarities of the two 
systems. 


CHAPTER X 

MUNICIPAL INSTITUTIONS IN LATIN AMERICA 

The concrete, practical achievements of municipal govern¬ 
ment in the republics of Latin America, like their experiences 
with popular institutions generally, range all the way from the 
best to the worst, from the most progressive and enlightened 
to the most backward and benighted; but in the externals of 
city government, particularly in matters of form and proce¬ 
dure, there is a remarkable uniformity. Except in Brazil, 
French and Spanish models are faithfully followed all the 
way from the Rio Grande to the Straits of Magellan. This 
does not mean th^t there are no local deviations from Old 
World prototypes, but it does mean that the general outlines 
and principles of the French and Spanish municipal systems 
are reproduced and generally adhered to throughout Latin 
America. 

With the essentials of the French system of city government 
in mind, a brief summary is all that is necessary to a compre¬ 
hension of Spanish municipal institutions. Prior to the adop¬ 
tion of the liberal constitution of 1869 Spanish communal 
government was as completely regimented under central con¬ 
trol as its counterpart across the Pyrenees, and in much the 
same manner. The constitution of 1869 attempted to give 
both provinces and communes a larger degree of local autonomy, 
and to that end provided in substance that neither the Cortes 
(the national legislature) nor the national executive should 
interfere with provincial or communal administration except 
when these local authorities were guilty of exceeding their 
powers to the detriment of general public interests. Although 
this constitutional guarantee of local autonomy has not been 
strictly observed in practice, its effect upon municipal govern¬ 
ment has been to insure to the ayuntamiento or council of the 
commune a more generous degree of freedom than municipal 
councils in continental Europe commonly enjoy. The Spanish 
city council consists of from five to thirty-nine members 


Wide vari¬ 
ations in 
achievement, 
but general 
similarity in 
principles 


French and 

Spanish 

models 


95 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Latin 

America 

borrowed 

from both 

old and new 

Spanish 

systems. 


City govern¬ 
ment in Chile 


96 

elected by the qualified voters of the commune for a term of 
four years. The terms rotate so that one-half of the members 
retire biennially. The members of the council, as in France, 
elect one of their number to serve as alcalde or mayor, although 
in certain of the larger municipalities the mayor is appointed 
by the crown. The mayor is the chief executive officer of the 
city, just as in France. 

The Spanish settlements in the Americas were all founded 
prior to the adoption of the constitution of 1869, and most of 
the Spanish-American republics were also launched upon their 
independent careers before that time. It was therefore the 
old Spanish system of local administration rather than the re¬ 
formed system of recent times which served as the original 
model for local administration in the Spanish colonies of the 
New World. Independence undoubtedly was accompanied by 
some departures from the hierarchical system of Old Spain, 
but they were not as numerous or extensive as might be imag¬ 
ined. All through Latin America today we find municipal in¬ 
stitutions and practices that are strongly reminiscent of the old 
Spanish system, and alongside of these may be found numerous 
evidences of the influence of newer developments in the mother 
country. 

It is manifestly impossible in the brief survey permitted by 
the limits of this book to undertake a detailed description of 
the municipal institutions of all of the twenty republics of 
Latin America or of any one of them. All that we can do is 
to select a few of the most prominent Latin-American states 
and present a very condensed statement of the most salient 
features of the municipal institutions of each. The countries 
selected for this purpose are Chile, Peru, Argentina, Mexico, 
and Brazil. 

Local government in Chile exists in name and, according to 
North American ideas, in name only. The country is divided 
into major units called provinces, which are subdivided into 
departments, these in turn being partitioned into subdelega¬ 
tions which are themselves divided into districts. Municipali¬ 
ties have no regular place in this hierarchical scheme. The 
capital of each department is constituted a municipality, and 
certain other places may be so designated by the president 
of the republic with the approval of the council of state. 
Under the organic law for municipal corporations every mu¬ 
nicipality must have three alcaldes and six councilmen, but 


LATIN AMERICAN INSTITUTIONS 


97 

cities with a population exceeding 100,000 have one additional 
councilman for each additional 50,000 inhabitants. The coun- 
cilmen are elected by the qualified voters of the municipality, 
and the alcaldes are elected by the council. The intendente 
or executive chief of the province, an appointee of the president 
of the republic, is the presiding officer of the council if and 
when present at its meetings. In his absence the first alcalde 
assumes his duties, and the second and third alcaldes succeed 
in the order named in the event of the absence of the first. The 
intendente of the province has authority to veto or suspend 
any act or resolution of the municipal council which he deems 
prejudicial to public order. Subject to this limitation the coun¬ 
cil has general charge of the affairs of the city and organizes 
and directs the work of administration. Police and sometimes 
other functions of local government are administered by the 
national government. 

In Peru, as in Chile, local government is centralized to a 
degree that reminds one of the French system. The country 
is divided into administrative departments, each of which is 
headed by a prefect appointed by the president of the republic. 
In like manner the departments are divided into provinces 
headed by subprefects also appointed by the president of the 
republic. The provinces in turn are divided into districts 
headed by governors who are appointed by the prefects and 
are immediately subordinate to the subprefects. The constitu¬ 
tion provides that municipalities shall be established in places 
designated by law, and that their functions, responsibilities, 
the qualifications of their councilmen, and the manner of elect¬ 
ing the same shall be determined by law. The municipal law 
provides for a municipal council elected by direct popular vote 
on a ward or district basis and for an alcalde or mayor to be 
appointed by the central authorities. The alcalde is the 
executive head of the city and the agent of the central gov¬ 
ernment as well. In theory the municipality has charge of all 
matters of local concern, but the police are under national con¬ 
trol, and the central officials have the authority and the means 
to control other local matters also. 

Bureaucratic central control of municipal government does 
not seem unnatural to unitary states like Chile and Peru, but 
in countries having a federal government it seems rather 
anomalous. Throughout Latin America, however (Brazil ex¬ 
cepted), federalism has meant not relaxation of central control 


City govern¬ 
ment in Peru 


City govern¬ 
ment in 
Argentina 


City govern¬ 
ment in 
Mexico 


9 g URBAN DEMOCRACY 

but a transfer of the locus of control from the national to the 
state or provincial authorities. A fine example of this is found 
in Argentina. In that country the fourteen individual states 
or provinces enjoy the right to frame and adopt constitutions 
for their own government, subject to the terms and conditions 
of the distributive clauses of the national constitution. Among 
the powers falling within the domain of state government is 
the regulation and control of local government. Thus we find 
that the constitutions and laws of the several states provide 
in detail for the organization and procedure of municipal 
government. The usual plan of government includes a popu¬ 
larly elected council varying in size according to the popula¬ 
tion of the city and an intendente or chief executive appointed 
and controlled by the governor of the state. The council as a 
rule elects its own president and other officers, but the inten¬ 
dente is head of the municipal administration and directs all 
of the routine processes of government. In Buenos Aires, the 
capital of the republic, this plan is somewhat modified. There 
the mayor is appointed by the president of the republic and 
functions as a connecting link between the national govern¬ 
ment and that of the municipality. The police and fire depart¬ 
ments of Buenos Aires, the sanitary regulations, and certain 
branches of the educational system are directly administered 
by the national government. 

Mexico, like Argentina, has a federal system of government. 
Local government in Mexico, as in Argentina, is one of the 
functions of the states. The national constitution, however, 
restricts the freedom of state government in many matters 
which might incidentally affect municipal affairs and gives the 
federal senate express power to intervene in the affairs of the 
states when conditions arise that are deemed dangerous to 
the established constitutional order. Municipal government is 
provided for by the constitutions and laws of the states, the 
usual system being a municipal council elected by the qualified 
voters of the city and a mayor subject to state control. The 
governor of the state or other authorities acting in his name may 
as a rule disallow municipal acts deemed prejudicial to general 
interest. The city of Mexico is one of the municipalities lying 
in the federal district. There the national government is su¬ 
preme. At the head of the federal district is a superior coun¬ 
cil composed of a governor, a director of public works, and a 
president of the board of health, all appointed by the president 


LATIN AMERICAN INSTITUTIONS 


99 

of the republic and under the immediate control of the national 
department of interior. The superior council may annul or re¬ 
vise the action of any one of the constituent municipalities of 
the district, and may in turn have its own actions annulled or 
revised by the department of interior. 

Brazil differs from the other federal republics of Latin Amer¬ 
ica in that its constitution not only bestows generous powers 
upon the states, but specifically guarantees municipal auton¬ 
omy and requires the states to assure the municipalities within 
their borders full autonomy in all that relates to their peculiar 
local interests. The only limitation on this grant of home rule 
is that laws originating with municipal powers may be annulled 
by the states if they are found to be in conflict with the national 
or state constitutions or with the rights of other municipalities. 
Through the home rule provision in the national constitution 
the cities of Brazil gain control of their own organization and 
personnel. The customary plan of city government in Brazil 
is a municipal council elected by wards or districts and a chief 
executive, known as the prejeito, also elected by popular vote. 
It is not uncommon in the larger cities for the police depart¬ 
ment to be administered by the state government rather than 
by the municipality. Rio de Janeiro, being the capital of the 
country, constitutes an exception to the rule of municipal 
autonomy. Rio de Janeiro has the customary locally elected 
council, but the prejeito is appointed by the president of the 
republic, and a number of the administrative departments of 
the city are under direct national control. 

While the foregoing survey may afford some idea of the 
legal foundation, form, and procedure of municipal govern¬ 
ment in Latin America, it conveys nothing of the magnificent 
accomplishments of urban communities in the more progressive 
countries of the Latin American area. These, to be appreci¬ 
ated, must be seen. Facing difficulties that would have stag¬ 
gered many of their European and North American contempo¬ 
raries, these splendid municipalities have not only grappled 
successfully with the problems of health and order, but have 
carried out programs of civic improvement and embellishment 
which entitle them to rank among the most beautiful and 
beneficent social entities the world has ever known. 


City govern¬ 
ment in 
Brazil 


Summary 


100 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Selected References 

J. Bryce, Modern Democracies, Vol. I, Chap. 17. 

L. E. Elliott, Chile Today and Tomorrow. 

L. E. Elliott, Brazil Today and Tomorrow. 

H. G. James and P. A. Martin, The Republics of Latin America. 

C. L. Jones, Mexico and Its Reconstruction. 

P. F. Martin, Peru in the Twentieth Century. 

L. S. Rowe, The Federal System of the Argentine Republic. 

Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Which features of the French municipal system do you find 
most prominent in Latin America? 

2. Can you suggest any reasons why the Latin American peoples 
should have been strongly influenced by the example of the United 
States in the formation of their national governments and not at all 
influenced by the United States in the development of their local 
institutions? 


CHAPTER XI 

THE EVOLUTION OF AMERICAN CITY GOVERNMENT 

The story of American city government begins with the colo¬ 
nial borough, which was nothing more than a colonial edition 
of the English borough of the same period. Upwards of twenty 
borough charters were granted during the colonial period. 
These charters were granted by the governor of the colony in 
his capacity of representative of the English crown. They 
carried the usual corporate rights and privileges, and occasion¬ 
ally certain special powers and prerogatives. The English 
model was very closely followed in the organization of the 
borough. The government of the borough was vested in a 
common council consisting of the mayor, the recorder, the 
aldermen, and the assistant aldermen or councillors. All these 
sat together as one body and functioned as a unit. There were 
divergent practices as to the manner of selecting the different 
members of the council, but the actual operation of borough 
government was not much affected by these differences. The 
mayor was commonly appointed by the governor of the colony, 
but in some cases was chosen by the council. His position was 
very similar to that of the English mayor. He was the pre¬ 
siding officer of the council and titular head of the government 
of the borough, but he had no independent executive or politi¬ 
cal functions. His only special functions of any great conse¬ 
quence were judicial. The mayor’s court was the chief judicial 
tribunal of the municipality, and the mayor was its presiding 
member. 

The recorder was corporation attorney, and in some places 
he acted as mayor in the event of the death or disability of the 
mayor. The aldermen and councillors (sometimes called as¬ 
sistants or assistant aldermen) were usually elected by the 
qualified voters of the borough, but in three cases they were 
chosen by cooption. The principal difference between the al¬ 
dermen and ordinary councilmen was that the former were jus¬ 
tices of the peace as well as members of the council, but the 
latter had no judicial functions. 

IOI 


The colonial 
borough 


The council 


The mayor 


The recorder 


The aider- 
men and 
councillors 


102 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The effects 
of the 
Revolution 


The doctrine 
of separa¬ 
tion of 
powers be¬ 
gins to in¬ 
fluence 
municipal 
organization. 


The progress 
of decentrali¬ 
zation 


This simple and organically unified system of municipal gov¬ 
ernment was not disturbed to any great extent by the American 
Revolution. Certain readjustments were made, but they did 
not alter the essential character of the system. Distrust of 
executive authority led to the transferring of the choice of the 
mayor from the governor to the common council of the munici¬ 
pality, or to the voters themselves. This did not materially 
change the mayor’s functions or modify his relation to the gen¬ 
eral scheme of municipal procedure. The council continued to 
be the sole organ of municipal government, and the mayor and 
recorder continued as integral parts of the council. There 
were some slight changes in the direction of greater democracy 
in the election of the council, and the colonial term “ borough ” 
was gradually displaced by the more characteristically Ameri¬ 
can term “ city.” 

But profound changes were destined to occur, and by the 
end of the first quarter of the nineteenth century the drift of 
these changes was apparent. The idea of separation of powers, 
which was one of the fundamental and distinctive features of 
the Federal Constitution of 1789 and also of the subsequent 
state constitutions, began to make headway in the field of city 
government. By 1825 there was a marked tendency to sepa¬ 
rate the office of mayor from the council, and to give the mayor 
the veto power and certain independent executive powers. The 
judicial functions of the mayor were gradually sheared away, 
and the mayor’s court eventually disappeared altogether. 
There was also an evident tendency to divide the council into 
two branches, after the fashion of the national and state legis¬ 
lative bodies. 

From 1825 onward the progress of decentralization was rapid. 
The mayor was made independent of the council, and was given 
powers designed to serve as a check upon it. It is a curious 
fact, however, that the executive powers of the mayor were 
not built up in correspondence with his increased political im¬ 
portance. The range of his appointing and removing power 
remained very narrow and restricted, and when such powers 
were given to the mayor they were generally subject to coun- 
cilmanic checks. In no sense was the mayor made the direct¬ 
ing head of the administrative organization of the city. The 
real business of administration was at first carried on quite 
largely through the agency of committees of the council and 
minor administrative officials responsible to the council just as 


AMERICAN CITY GOVERNMENT I03 

had been done in colonial times. The bifurcation of the coun¬ 
cil and the enormously increased volume of administrative work 
incident to the growth of cities soon rendered this procedure 
impracticable. Instead of making the mayor chief executive 
and placing all the administrative machinery of the city under 
his direction and supervision, independent or semi-independent 
offices and agencies, particularly boards and commissions, were 
created. In course of time American city government lost all 
semblance of unity, symmetry, or order. The usual scheme of 
government included a mayor elected by popular vote, a coun¬ 
cil of two houses also elected by popular vote but representing 
different constituencies, a number of single-head departments 
whose chiefs were either elected or in some intricate manner 
appointed, and finally a staggering array of boards and com¬ 
missions whose members were likewise either elected or ap¬ 
pointed. The power to appoint administrative officials was 
frequently vested in the mayor and council jointly, but was 
sometimes bestowed upon state or county officials. 

The various boards and commissions — the park board, the 
board of police commissioners, the board of public works, the 
waterworks board, and the like — occupied an unusually inde¬ 
pendent position, because they were commonly appointed for 
overlapping terms so that no one administration could control 
the entire board, and were given independent financial and 
legislative powers. The inevitable result of this wide and irra¬ 
tional dispersion of power and responsibility was a hodge¬ 
podge — a system of government so complex and confusing as 
to furnish a perfect ambush for the spoilsman, the boodler, and 
every other known species of predatory politician. This amor¬ 
phous and preposterously disorganized system of government 
eventuated in a regime of rascality, in unmitigated carnival of 
knavery and corruption, which prompted even so mild and 
gentle a critic of democracy as the late James Bryce tempo¬ 
rarily to despair of the future of American cities. 

But the era of uplift was in the offing. Heralded by the 
muckraker, the prosecutor, and the reformer, there came, dur¬ 
ing the latter years of the nineteenth and the first years of the 
twentieth centuries, a period of piety and repentance. Civic 
evangelism was rampant in the land, and city after city hit 
the sawdust trail and confessed its sins before the world. No¬ 
torious political rings were broken up; infamous miscreants of 
the type of Tweed, Croker, and Ruef were spectacularly kicked 


Disunified 
city govern¬ 
ment 


The era of 
civic evangel¬ 
ism 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The political 
effects of 
the Galves¬ 
ton disaster 


104 

out; reformers were elected to office; civil service reform was 
instituted in scores of cities; the bicameral city council gave 
way to a single-chambered body greatly reduced in size; coun¬ 
cils were shorn of all but the most limited powers; boards, 
commissions, and other independent functionaries were reduced 
in number and placed under superior authority and control; 
and, to cap the climax, the formerly feeble office of mayor was 
exalted to unprecedented heights of prestige and power. Urban 
democracy was cleaning house, and in the process of renovation 
was doing a certain amount of remodelling in order to render 
the house more livable for the forces of honesty and decency. 

It could not be expected of course that such a remarkable 
climb from the slough of political degradation could be accom¬ 
plished without mishap. The list of backsliding cities is almost 
as great as the number of those which renounced their sins and 
set forth on the way of salvation. The zeal of the people could 
not be maintained at fever pitch, and in many cases the voters 
manifestly became tired of piety as a substitute for pap and 
patronage and therefore joyously reverted to the Lesbian de¬ 
lights of machine politics. In general, however, the trend was 
upward. The public conscience was kept tender and uncal¬ 
loused by repeated flagellations at the hands of austere apostles 
of reform, and backsliding was frequently followed by renewed 
contrition. 

At this juncture blind fate took a hand in the game and un¬ 
ceremoniously reshuffled the cards. On the eighth of Septem¬ 
ber, 1900, a terrific West Indian hurricane tore across the Gulf 
of Mexico and buried the city of Galveston, Texas, under a 
tidal wave of devastating proportions. The calamity was enor¬ 
mous, unprecedented in American history, and that fact to¬ 
gether with desperate need for relief and reconstruction riveted 
the attention of the country upon Galveston. At the time 
Galveston was operating under the disintegrated mayor-and- 
council system of government that has been described in the 
preceding paragraphs, and had experienced the usual ups of 
reform and downs of reaction. Had it not been for the flood 
Galveston probably would have continued to muddle along 
with this scheme of government for many years. But the ram¬ 
shackle old contraption which had served Galveston as a city 
government in normal times was entirely unequal to the emer¬ 
gencies created by the disaster, and it promptly collapsed. 

Something had to be done. A self-constituted committee of 


AMERICAN CITY GOVERNMENT 105 

business men was working on some of the problems of physical 
rehabilitation, and this committee, under the pressure of popu¬ 
lar demand, took up the problem of reorganizing the govern¬ 
ment of the city. In 1901 this committee sponsored a measure 
before the Texas legislature proposing that the government of 
the city of Galveston be temporarily turned over to a commis¬ 
sion of five members. The legislature, seeing nothing else to 
do, granted the request and provided that three of the commis¬ 
sioners should be appointed by the governor and two of them 
should be elected by the voters of Galveston. Some months 
later a decision of the state supreme court made it necessary 
to change the mode of selection and have all five commissioners 
chosen by the voters of the city. 

Thus was born the so-called commission plan of city govern¬ 
ment. The idea was not a new one. Similar schemes had been 
employed as temporary expedients for coping with emergencies 
in New Orleans between 1870 and 1882, in Memphis between 
1879 and 1893, and in Mobile between 1879 and 1887. A com¬ 
mission system of government had been inaugurated in 1874 in 
the District of Columbia, and was not discontinued; it was in 
operation at the time of the Galveston innovation, and remains 
in operation today. The commission plan in Galveston was ac¬ 
cepted at first as a sort of temporary receivership and not as a 
permanent system of government. Everybody expected a re¬ 
version to the conventional system of city government as soon 
as the emergency had passed. But it was destined not to be. 
The people of the twentieth century were tired of mere revival¬ 
ism as a means of obtaining better city government and were 
ready for drastic innovations. 

The Galveston experiment succeeded, succeeded perhaps be¬ 
yond the fondest dreams of its originators. It was not only 
that the new broom was a more efficient instrument than the 
old one, but that the state of public opinion was such as to 
facilitate operation of any system of government that promised 
relief from the intolerable inefficiency of the old system. The 
benefits of commission government in Galveston were published 
abroad, and in a few years other cities in the state of Texas 
were beseeching the legislature to permit them to adopt the 
commission plan. Houston was granted a commission charter 
in 1905, and then in rapid succession came Dallas, El Paso, 
Fort Worth, and others. It was now the “ Texas plan ” rather 
than the “ Galveston plan,” and the Texas “ boosters ” gave it 


The advent 
of the com¬ 
mission plan 


The spread 
of the com¬ 
mission plan 


io6 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The slowing 
down of the 
co mmi ssion 
government 
movement 


The origin of 
the city mana¬ 
ger plan 


plenty of advertising. Cities in other states now began to cast 
envious glances towards Texas and to clamor for a chance to 
play with the new toy. In 1907 four states (Iowa, Kansas, 
North Dakota, and South Dakota) enacted general laws allow¬ 
ing cities to adopt commission government. Before the year 
was out a number of cities had taken advantage of this legisla¬ 
tion. The most prominent of these was Des Moines, which put 
into operation a system of commission government garnished 
with the initiative, referendum, and recall and advertised as 
the “ Des Moines plan.” 

The race was on. Reform, dramatized by catastrophe, had 
captured the public fancy. With the speed of an epidemic the 
commission government movement swept across the country, 
and in less than a decade more than 400 cities in all parts of 
the United States had adopted the new scheme. It was one of 
the most alluring reforms ever dangled before the eyes of a 
politically disillusioned people. It promised everything the 
people could possibly desire — efficiency, economy, democracy, 
simplicity, responsibility — all the cardinal virtues of good 
government. But after a few years of experience the ardor of 
the people for commission government began to abate some¬ 
what. The gap between theory and practice became painfully 
apparent, especially in the larger cities. The millennium did 
not arrive on schedule, and the Utopian goal of efficiency and 
economy remained unachieved. By 1917 the wave had begun 
to recede; new adoptions practically ceased; a number of 
cities forsook the commission plan, some reverting to the dis¬ 
carded mayor-and-council plan and others espousing the city 
manager plan which was now coming to the fore as the “ latest 
and best thing ” in city government. 

The city manager plan is really an outgrowth of the commis¬ 
sion government movement, and an offshoot of the commission 
plan. The history of the manager plan goes back to an at¬ 
tempt, in the year 1907, by the little city of Staunton, Virginia, 
to adopt the commission system. Owing to an insurmountable 
barrier in the state constitution the attempt failed, but the 
reform leaders in Staunton refused to be balked. If they could 
not have the commission plan, they would endeavor to gather 
the same fruits from another tree. Upon the initiative, so it is 
said, of Mr. H. C. Braxton, a member of the city council, and 
Mr. Stephen Timberlake, a Staunton attorney, there was 
evolved a plan for the creation of the office of city business 


AMERICAN CITY GOVERNMENT 


107 

manager. This plan was embodied in a municipal ordinance 
which was adopted by the city council on January 13, 1908. 

The ordinance made no change in the structure of the city’s 
government — it could not — but provided that the responsibil¬ 
ity for administering all of the strictly business functions of the 
city should be delegated to a city business manager, who should 
be employed by and subject to the city council. The depart¬ 
ments of streets, electric lighting, waterworks, parks, and over¬ 
seer of the poor were placed under the city manager, and he 
was required also to perform all the administrative work of 
several of the standing committees of the council. The city 
manager was further authorized to make all contracts for labor 
and supplies, and to assist the council in making up the budget 
of appropriations. The council appointed as first city manager 
Mr. Charles E. Ashburner, a civil engineer of high professional 
standing and sound experience. Mr. Ashburner took office at 
once, and it was largely owing to his insight and ability that the 
new scheme was successfully launched. 

The Staunton innovation was not a radical reform, but sim¬ 
ply a novelty resulting from the grafting of a new functionary 
on to an old system of government. But it was a novelty, and 
it had the good fortune to appear at a time when there was 
tremendous interest in every new departure in city government. 
Consequently it excited a large amount of comment and re¬ 
ceived no small amount of advertising. The idea of a munici¬ 
pal business manager, above and apart from the arena of poli¬ 
tics, made a strong appeal to persons yearning for a regime 
of efficiency and economy, and particularly to those whose 
faith in the commission plan had become somewhat tinged with 
disillusion and disappointment. 

It was almost inevitable, therefore, that the manager idea 
should be linked up with commission government. It would 
be hard to say who first conceived the idea of modifying the The genesis 
commission plan by the addition of a city manager, but the first 
definitive proposal of this kind came from the city of Lockport, manager 
New York. The history of this Lockport proposal is an inter- ldea 
esting story. Dissatisfaction with the loose-jointed mayor-and- 
council system of government inspired the board of trade of 
the city of Lockport in 1910 to inaugurate a movement for the 
adoption of commission government. They proposed to ask 
the state legislature to grant such a charter to the city. At the 
same time the New York Short Ballot Organization, under the 


Lockport 
proposal used 
for propa¬ 
ganda pur¬ 
poses 


io 8 URBAN DEMOCRACY 

patronage and direction of Mr. Richard S. Childs, was engaged 
in a campaign to induce the legislature to adopt a comprehen¬ 
sive program of short ballot legislation. Then occurred one of 
those strange coincidences which oftentimes mold the course 
of subsequent events. Mr. Childs tells the story as follows: 

We had bills for cutting down the state ticket and reorganizing 
county government. When we came to municipal government, I had 
Mr. Gilbertson, who afterward became executive secretary of the 
Short Ballot Organization, draw up a general optional law applicable 
to second and third class cities, and I instructed him to provide what 
I then called “ an improved commission plan,” with unpaid commis¬ 
sioners and a city manager. The idea was a product of my own re¬ 
flections on the commission plan which at that time was in great 
vogue, but which I felt to be fundamentally defective. 

When the bill was drafted, the New York Short Ballot Organiza¬ 
tion declined to sponsor it, preferring municipal home rule, and so I 
had the bill on my hands and looked around for some other way 
to get it launched. The Lockport Board of Trade presently ap¬ 
peared in our clippings as interested in investigating the commission 
plan for their city, so I wrote them saying that here was a bill 
ready made and embodying the latest and best ideas, and invited 
them to introduce it in the legislature as their own. This they did 
in the legislative session of 1911, I believe. On that basis the Short 
Ballot Organization issued publicity material in every way its in¬ 
genuity could suggest and made all the noise it could about this new 
and interesting development in municipal government. 1 

Such was the genesis of the commission-manager plan of city 
government. The Lockport bill failed to pass, but, being the 
first concrete measure of its kind, it served as a convenient peg 
upon which to hang an extensive campaign of organized pub¬ 
licity, which served to popularize the commission-manager idea 
and break the ground for its subsequent success. To quote Mr. 
Childs again: 

The Short Ballot Organization continued to nurse along the plan 
with very active publicity work for several years under my direc¬ 
tion ; in fact, I wrote practically all of the publicity throughout this 
whole period, including several pamphlets, although my name did 
not usually appear, as I was anxious that it should not seem to be 
a one-crank movement. I preserved my obscurity in the work so 
successfully that some years later, when I read a paper discussing 
certain aspects of the city manager plan to a convention of city 

1 Quoted from a letter written by Mr. Childs to the author. 


AMERICAN CITY GOVERNMENT 109 

managers, there ensued a long discussion, the burden of which was 
the question as to what right I had to assume to tell city managers 
anything about this subject. I was quite delighted. 2 


This stream of propaganda soon cut a channel through the 
shifting sands of public opinion. Influenced by, if not as a 
direct result of, the publicity campaign in behalf of the Lock- 
port bill, the city of Sumter, South Carolina, adopted the com¬ 
mission-manager system in the latter part of 1912. This was 
quickly followed by similar steps in the cities of Hickory and 
Morgantown in North Carolina. These small successes fur¬ 
nished a basis for even more intensive and far-reaching publicity 
on the part of the promoters of commission-manager govern¬ 
ment. The commission-manager plan was no longer a theory; 
it was a tangible fact, and the cities which had adopted it began 
to tell the world in pronouncements loud and long that they 
were the possessors of the ££ latest and best ” system of city 
government. Incidentally it may be mentioned that much of 
the telling was done at the expense of the Short Ballot Organi¬ 
zation and that much of the publicity material, though it ap¬ 
peared to be of local origin, was actually prepared in the head¬ 
quarters of the Short Ballot Organization. 

It is doubtful, however, if the most artful publicity and the 
most ingenious promotion could have brought about the quick 
and widespread response which followed if it had not been 
aided by a really sensational event — the adoption of the com¬ 
mission-manager plan by the city of Dayton, Ohio, in August, 
1913. The cities which had adopted commission-manager gov¬ 
ernment prior to that time were not big enough and important 
enough to command the attention of the country. But Dayton 
was a city of more than 100,000 inhabitants, and its problems 
were typical of the problems of the larger cities generally. 
Moreover, the attention of the country was focussed upon Day- 
ton by the terrible flood of March 23-26, 1913. Nothing bet¬ 
ter calculated to dramatize the commission-manager movement 
could have occurred, and it happened just at the right time 
just at the time when dissatisfaction with the commission plan 
was becoming quite general. 

The adoption of commission-manager government in Dayton 
was not accidental. For many years prior to i 9 T 3 Dayton had 
been afflicted with a disintegrated, check-and-balance system 
2 Quoted from a letter written by Mr. Childs to the author. 


Sumter, S. C., 
the first 
commission- 
manager city 


Dayton, Ohio, 
adopts the 
manager 
plan 


The reform 
movement in 
Dayton 


no 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The Dayton 
flood helps 


of city government. Spasmodic movements for reform had 
been started from time to time because of the inflexible require¬ 
ments of the state constitution and municipal code. But in 
1912 the voters of Ohio approved an amendment to the state 
constitution permitting municipalities to frame and adopt their 
own charters, and this opened the door for any city to make 
comprehensive and drastic changes in its governmental organi¬ 
zation. In Dayton the most prominent champion of municipal 
reform was the late John H. Patterson, head of the National 
Cash Register Company. Mr. Patterson had been attracted to 
the commission-manager plan because of its apparent similar¬ 
ity to the system of corporate organization and management 
with which he was familiar in the business world. The unique 
eminence of Mr. Patterson in the civic and business life of Day- 
ton placed him in position to launch singlehanded almost any 
project which might commend itself to him. Immediately after 
the adoption of the home rule amendment in 1912 Mr. Patter¬ 
son induced the Dayton chamber of commerce to appoint a 
committee to consider the question of charter reform, and was 
himself named chairman of this committee. After some delib¬ 
eration this committee decided to inaugurate a campaign for a 
city manager charter, and, under the chairmanship of Mr. 
Patterson, the chamber of commerce committee was enlarged 
to serve as a campaign committee. Subsequently the size of 
the committee was raised to one hundred members in order to 
make it more representative of the various elements in the po¬ 
litical and economic life of the city. This Committee of One 
Hundred, as it was styled, put up and backed a slate of candi¬ 
dates for the charter commission who were pledged to the city 
manager plan. Opposing slates were put in the field by the 
Democratic Party and the Socialist Party. 

At this juncture the city of Dayton was inundated by the 
raging waters of the Miami River, and in the face of the result¬ 
ing emergency the existing government of the city stalled and 
went dead. If the Committee of One Hundred needed a clinch¬ 
ing argument for the adoption of commission-manager govern¬ 
ment, the flood furnished it abundantly. But nothing was left 
to chance. The Committee was well supplied with funds, and 
it proceeded to make an organized and exhaustive canvass in 
behalf of its candidates. The election was held in May, 1913, 
less than two months after the flood, and the fifteen candidates 
sponsored by the Committee of One Hundred won easily. 


AMERICAN CITY GOVERNMENT 


ill 


These fifteen, it should be noted, included Mr. John H. Patter¬ 
son and the four other gentlemen who with him had constituted 
the original committee of the chamber of commerce. Five 
weeks after its election the charter commission had a commis¬ 
sion-manager charter ready to submit to the voters. This docu¬ 
ment was placed before the electorate at a special election in 
the following August and was decisively approved by the 
voters. 

The Dayton adoption gave a great impetus to the city man¬ 
ager movement. By the end of 1913 eleven cities had joined 
the procession, and since that time they have trooped to the 
city manager standard at the rate of twenty to forty a year. 
At the present time nearly 400 cities in this country claim to 
have city manager government in some form. Most of these 
cities have adopted the commission-manager system pure and 
simple. Under this system there is a small board of unpaid 
commissioners elected by the voters. The commissioners act 
as the city council and employ a city manager to manage the 
administrative affairs of the city under their control. Some of 
the larger cities, finding the commission too small to be repre¬ 
sentative of the population of a large city, experimented with 
various combinations of the ward council with the city manager 
idea. None of these ventures met with great success, and it 
looked as if the manager plan were destined to be confined to 
cities small enough to get along with a commission instead of a 
representative council. This prospect was completely altered, 
however, when the city of Cleveland in 1921 adopted a council- 
manager charter which provided for a council of twenty-five 
members elected by proportional representation. If Cleveland 
could make a success of city manager government, other cities 
of metropolitan proportions could hope to do the same; and 
without waiting to see whether Cleveland could make it suc¬ 
ceed, a number of large cities proceeded at once to follow 
Cleveland’s example. Cincinnati, Rochester, Kansas City, and 
Indianapolis have already taken the plunge, and many others 
are now teetering on the spring board. 

The developments outlined in the foregoing survey of Ameri¬ 
can municipal history have not taken place simultaneously in 
all parts of the country; nor have they occurred with any de¬ 
gree of progressive uniformity within the boundaries of a single 
state. The colonial type of city government has entirely dis¬ 
appeared; but examples of practically every other type of mu- 


The spread of 
the manager 
plan 


Cleveland 
adopts the 
manager 
plan 


112 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


nicipal organization that has ever been tried in this country 
may still be found. Many of these, of course, are nothing but 
anachronistic survivals, and are obviously on their way to the 
museum of political curiosities. But there are in vogue at the 
present time five systems of city government which are numer¬ 
ously represented in almost every part of the country. These 
are the councilmanic plan, the check-and-balance plan, the 
strong mayor plan, the commission plan, and the manager plan. 
Each of these will be treated at some length in the next chapter. 


Selected References 


W. Anderson, American City Government, Chap. XII. 

E. S. Griffith, Modern Development in City Government, Vol. I, 
Chaps. I, III, V. 

W. B. Munro, The Government of American Cities (4th ed.), 
Chap. II. 

T. H. Reed, Municipal Government in the United States, Chaps. IV, 
V, VI, VII. 

Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. How many similarities do you note between our colonial sys¬ 
tem of municipal government and the present-day English system? 
What do these similarities suggest to you? 

2. Do you think the abandonment of our original system of city 
government was a mistake? Was that system as well suited to 
American as to English conditions? 

3. To what extent do you think the structure of city government 
contributed to the degradation of city government in this country 
between the forties and the nineties of the last century? 

4. Is it correct to say that the commission plan and the manager 
plan represent a reversion to the original principles of municipal 
government in this country? 



CHAPTER XII 

AMERICAN SYSTEMS OF CITY GOVERNMENT 


The councilmanic type of city government is characterized 
by the preeminence of the council as compared with other or¬ 
gans of government. There is always a mayor elected by pop¬ 
ular vote, and perhaps a number of other administrative offi¬ 
cials are likewise chosen by direct election; but none of these 
plays a dominant or decisive role in the processes of municipal 
government. Because of its extensive and unbridled powers, 
the city council occupies the center of the stage and plays the 
leading part in the conduct of municipal affairs. 

The powers which enable the council to function as the 
major-domo of the municipal household are not the same every¬ 
where, but they almost invariably include a largely unrestricted 
control of the finances of the city. The hand that controls the 
purse rules the city. When the council possesses the sole or 
principal voice in fixing salaries and wages, in letting contracts, 
in making appropriations, in borrowing money, and in other 
financial matters, it is in a position to have its own way most 
of the time in the running of the city government. 

In addition to its financial powers, the council under this 
system often has extensive authority to establish, alter, or 
abolish administrative offices or agencies not specifically pro¬ 
vided for by charter or by general law. This power enables the 
council to wield a large influence in the process of administra¬ 
tion, for it can create jobs or abolish them and by that means 
can determine how they shall be conducted. In some of the 
councilmanic cities the council has considerable appointing 
power, and it almost invariably has the power to confirm or 
reject the appointments of the mayor. It is not uncommon, 
furthermore, for the consent of the council to be required for 
removals by the mayor. Some of the councilmanic charters 
even go so far as to give the council power, usually by an ex¬ 
traordinary majority, to remove persons appointed by the 
mayor despite the mayor’s opposition. The mayor sometimes 


The council¬ 
manic type 
of city 
government 


1. Features 


2. Financial 
powers of 
the council 


3. Powers 
of council 
over ad¬ 
ministra¬ 
tive organi¬ 
zation 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


4. Structure 
and compo¬ 
sition of 
council 


Declining 
popularity 
of council- 
manic sys¬ 
tem 





Weaknesses 
of council- 
manic sys¬ 
tem 


114 

has the veto power and sometimes not, but the mayor’s veto 
does not constitute a serious check upon the council, because 
the council can override it without much difficulty and gen¬ 
erally possesses sufficient power over finances and administra¬ 
tive personnel to cause the mayor to use his veto rather 
sparingly. 

Under the councilmanic system the council usually consists 
of a single chamber whose members are elected by direct popu¬ 
lar vote. In the larger councilmanic cities the members of the 
council are commonly elected by wards, but in the smaller 
cities the general ticket system is often preferred. The 
mayor sometimes acts as presiding officer of the council, but it 
is equally customary for the council to choose its own presiding 
officer or for the president of the council to be elected by vote 
of the people. 

Although the councilmanic system survives in a great many 
cities, it is on the decline. Its special stronghold is in munici¬ 
palities of less than 50,000 inhabitants, and particularly in 
small towns and villages. There are a few large cities, such as 
Chicago, San Francisco, and Seattle, where the council still 
enjoys an unusually wide range of authority; but it is scarcely 
accurate to list these cities in the councilmanic group, because 
the council in these cities does not actually overtop and domi¬ 
nate the other organs of government. 

The principal reason for the declining popularity of the coun¬ 
cilmanic system is its manifest inadequacy in the face of the 
tremendously complicated problems which devolve upon mu¬ 
nicipal government in modern industrial society. As has been 
pointed out at length in previous chapters, the industrial revo¬ 
lution of the last century and the consequent urbanization of 
our social system have created a desperate need for efficient 
and highly skilled administration. Paternalism has become an J 
unavoidable necessity, and it is only through efficient admin¬ 
istration that paternalism can be made to succeed. The coun¬ 
cilmanic system unfortunately does not lend itself to sound 
administrative procedure. The council, being essentially a 
deliberative and political body, can neither administer nor 
direct administration with any degree of proficiency. Even 
though the council refrain from using the administrative ma¬ 
chinery of the city as a political football — and such self- 
denial is rare — it is seldom able to direct the administrative 
operations of the city government with vigor and efficiency. v y 


CITY GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS 


The administrative system is disjointed, disorganized, and with¬ 
out a commanding head; and the council is too slow, unman¬ 
ageable, loose in its procedure to be able to direct the admin¬ 
istration itself. American city councils might possibly have 
circumvented this difficulty as English city councils have done, 
by handing over the business of administration to a staff of 
paid experts and coordinating their activities through a stand¬ 
ing committee system; but councilmanic politicians in the 
United States, with studied contempt for experts, have pre¬ 
ferred to perpetuate the spoils system. However, it is doubtful 
if even this could have saved the councilmanic system. 

The check-and-balance system of city government is much The check- 
more difficult to describe than the councilmanic system. It is gy S d t ' e b ^ lance 
an offshoot of the latter, and is a perfect example of nineteenth 
century American ideas of governmental organization. Its 
most striking and characteristic principle is disintegration. 

There is a city council, which is usually a single-chambered 1 . Features 
body although the bicameral council still survives in a few 
places. The members of the council are elected by direct pop¬ 
ular vote, and usually by wards. The powers of the council 
have been whittled down to a small fraction of their former 
amplitude. There is no accurate rule for measuring the pow¬ 
ers of the council under this system except to say that they 
comprise all powers not taken away from the council. But the 
emphasis should be placed upon the “ taken away,” for that is 
the effect of the check-andnbalance system upon the city coun- 2. Division 
cil — to take away everything that can be conveniently placed bltwTen 
elsewhere. City parks are taken away from the council and council and 
placed under the management of a board of park commission- agencies 
ers; city waterworks are given over to a board of water com¬ 
missioners; street improvements are placed in the hands of a 
board of public works; the police force is placed under the 
direction of a board of police commissioners; and so the process 
of taking away goes on until nearly every major function of 
city government is vested in officials independent of the coun¬ 
cil. The independent boards and commissions thus created to 
take over councilmanic functions are not merely administrative 
agencies; they are usually endowed with extensive legislative 
and financial powers as well. For example, they very often 
have power to levy and collect taxes, spend and borrow money, 
and make by-laws or ordinances without the sanction or ap- 
proval of the council. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


3. Independ¬ 
ent boards 
and offices 


The vogue of 

check-and- 

balance 

government 

is on the 

wane 


Il6 

The members of these independent boards and commissions 
are chosen in several different ways. The commonest mode of 
selection is for the mayor to nominate and the council to con¬ 
firm. But when such is the practice, it is common to have the 
members chosen for rotating terms so that there can be no 
complete renewal of membership at the hands of a single coun- 
cilmanic-mayoral combination. Occasionally the power of se¬ 
lecting members of these municipal boards and commissions is 
vested in state or county officials. Popular election of munici¬ 
pal boards and commissions is not as prevalent as it once was, 
for it has been discovered that the long ballot, which is un¬ 
avoidable when there is a large number of officials to be elected 
at one time, results in such bewilderment and confusion on the 
part of the electorate that intelligent voting is impossible. 

In addition to the city council and the imposing array of 
boards and commissions just described, check-and-balance gov¬ 
ernment involves a lengthy list of elected or appointed execu¬ 
tive officials, including such officers as the mayor, the city clerk, 
the city treasurer, and the city attorney. The mayor often has 
the veto power, shares the power of appointment, and has some 
administrative services under his direction. But he is not an 
official of great power or influence. The city clerk, the city 
treasurer, the city attorney, and other independent officials are 
controlled in the performance of their duties by state law and 
municipal ordinances; but they are not, as a rule, subject to 
any considerable degree of superior administrative control. 

It is apparent, therefore, that check-and-balance government 
represents the last word in decentralization. Checks and bal¬ 
ances and separation of powers are carried about as far as is 
humanly possible. From 1850 to 1900, speaking broadly, this 
system of city government was very popular in the United 
States; it was the mode. Few examples of check-and-balance 
government remain among the larger cities at the present time. 

A few isolated examples still survive, like the rococo mansions 
of the U. S. Grant period, to remind us of the vertiginous po¬ 
litical theories of our grandfathers. There are still, however, 
a good many cities which have what might be called “ refined ” 
or “ reformed ” check-and-balance government. The tide of 
opinion during the last quarter-century has been running 
strongly against dispersion and diffusion of political authority; 
but there are still many cities which have been unwilling to 
abandon the check-and-balance idea altogether. Unable to re- V 


CITY GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS 


117 


sist the movement for centralization, they have compromised 
by going only part of the way. Some of the independent 
boards and officials have been lopped off, and others have been 
retained; the administrative authority of the mayor has been 
enlarged, but has not been made fully competent; the confused 
lines of authority as between political and administrative agen¬ 
cies have been simplified, but not completely rectified. 

In this modified form the check-and-balance system exists 
today in a goodly number of cities. It would not be correct to 
say that it flourishes, but at least it survives. Like the coun- 
cilmanic system, it is riding an outgoing tide and will eventu¬ 
ally pass beyond the horizon. The reasons for the unpopularity 
of check-and-balance government are not difficult to perceive. 
It is headless, complicated, unwieldy, unresponsive to popular 
impulses, and easily susceptible to perversion by corrupt politi¬ 
cal organizations. So completely does it scatter authority and 
responsibility that it places upon the people the necessity of 
watching everything all the time. This the people cannot and 
will not do. They can keep pretty fair tab upon one official or 
one body of officials, but to follow the complex affairs of a 
many-ringed political circus is, for the general electorate, an 
utterly impossible task. It is not surprising that the worst 
scandals in American municipal history have occurred under 
this scheme of government. The corruptionist, the grafter, and 
the pilfering politician can stalk their game from perfect am¬ 
bush behind the bewildering complexities of this system. 

The strong mayor plan of city government derives its name 
from the fact that it makes the office of mayor the pivot about 
which the entire process of city government revolves. The 
council is usually a small, single-chambered body whose mem¬ 
bers are elected either by wards or upon a general ticket. The 
powers of the council include the usual legislative prerogatives 
and functions, but in the exercise of these powers the council 
plays second fiddle to the mayor. It is the object of the strong 
mayor plan to concentrate both political and administrative 
leadership in the office of mayor. The purpose of the council 
is to serve as a sort of counterweight to check and restrain the 
possible vagaries and vices of the mayor. 

The theory of the thing is that the initiative should rest with 
the mayor, and that the council should act in the main as a de¬ 
liberative, delaying, investigating, and publicizing body. The 
mayor is conceived as a popularly elected grand vizier, and is 


Weaknesses 
of check- 
and-balance 
government 


V 

The strong 
mayor plan 


The theory 
of the strong 
mayor plan 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The position 
of the mayor 


The principle 
of executive 
leadership 


Il8 

given powers in keeping with that conception of the office. 
Subject of course to the civil service laws where the merit sys¬ 
tem is in vogue, the mayor is given the sole power to appoint 
and remove the administrative officials and employees of the 
city from top to bottom. Along with this goes almost absolute 
authority to control and direct the daily routine of the adminis¬ 
trative service. The mayor is the boss, and all other admin¬ 
istrative functionaries are his lackeys. The mayor also has 
large powers in respect to municipal finance. He is generally 
responsible for preparing and submitting to the council the an¬ 
nual budget of the city; he controls the disbursement of all 
monies; he has a large influence upon, if he does not completely 
control, the letting of contracts; he is largely responsible for 
the administration of the sinking funds of the city, for the han¬ 
dling of investments, and for the custody of monies on deposit. 
The mayor always has the veto power, and frequently has the 
power to veto single items of financial measures. In some 
strong mayor cities the mayor is given the right to introduce 
measures in the council and have them placed on the calendar 
of the council for consideration. The mayor is also given the 
right, and some cities make it his duty, to appear on the floor 
of the council and answer questions or participate in debate. 

From the foregoing outline of the salient features of the 
strong mayor system it is plain that its central principle is 
executive leadership. It represents a revolt against the decen¬ 
tralization and segmentation of the councilmanic and check- 
and-balance plans, and proceeds upon the hypothesis that the 
only way to get good government is to centralize authority and 
responsibility as completely as possible in one person, that per¬ 
son to be chosen by and directly accountable to the electorate. 
The people, so the theory runs, do not and cannot possess the 
information and the discrimination necessary for intelligent 
voting when they are obliged to choose incumbents for a large 
number of technical and complicated jobs; but they are entirely 
capable of picking a municipal Mussolini to run the whole 
works. The candidate who appeals to the imaginations of the 
people as symbolizing and standing for the kind of government 
they want will be elected to the office of mayor. As mayor he 
is responsible for seeing that the people get what they want, 
and to that end he is given power commensurate with his 
responsibility. 

Only a few of the larger cities of the country are at present 


CITY GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS 


119 


operating under the strong mayor plan. The smaller cities, 
upon abandoning their old systems of government, turn to the 
commission plan or the manager plan in preference to the 
strong mayor plan. The defection of Cleveland and Cincinnati 
to the city manager standard has temporarily slowed down the 
strong mayor movement which was very active among the 
larger cities a few years ago. But there are good reasons for 
doubting the permanence of this setback. Already there are 
strong indications that Cleveland and possibly other manager 
cities may revert to the strong mayor plan, and if such a thing 
should occur there would be a great revival of interest in strong 
mayor government. As far as one can read the signs of the 
times at present, the chief contenders for preference among the 
larger cities of the country during the next two decades will be 
the strong mayor plan and the city manager plan. Both have 
striking advantages and conspicuous defects. 

The virtues of the strong mayor plan are also its vices. The 
very concentration of political and administrative authority 
which enables public opinion to escape the pitfalls existing in 
councilmanic or check-and-balance government leads often¬ 
times to misadventure and catastrophe because too much de¬ 
pends upon one man. The right man in the office of mayor 
may be an enormous power for good, but the wrong man may 
be an equally enormous power for evil. We may pay the 
people the compliment of supposing that they always intend to 
make the right man mayor; but the irrefutable logic of facts 
compels us to admit that they often fail to do so. Under the 
strong mayor plan the office of mayor calls for a person of ex¬ 
ceptional qualities — a person who is politician, statesman, and 
administrator rolled into one. Mayors are not elected because 
they are known to possess these qualities, but because they are 
good vote-getters. The practical significance of this is that 
nine times in ten the successful candidate is the man who has 
the best vote-getting machine behind him or who is the most 
accomplished genius in the art of seducing public opinion. Such 
men may incidentally possess executive ability and qualities of 
statesmanship, but that is not always or even ordinarily the 
case. During the campaign the voters are steamed up and 
befuddled by such meretricious issues as the perfidies of King 
George or the dangers of Bolshevism, and the candidate who 
makes the strongest appeal to their emotions and most artfully 
capitalizes their prejudices is the one who gets their votes. 


The virtues 
and defects 
of the strong 
mayor plan 


120 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


I 


Inconsistency 
characteristic 
of the strong 
mayor plan 


i 


The com¬ 
mission plan 


The successful candidate may turn out to be a competent execu¬ 
tive and a wise leader, but just as often he turns out to be a 
contemptible blatherskite whose chief concern is to keep his 
job and ingratiate himself with the political boss who put him 
in office. But the powers of the office remain the same whether 
the incumbent is the right man or the wrong man, and in case 
he is the wrong man his vices and ineptitudes work havoc with 
the entire government of the city. 

To sum it up, the strong mayor plan works well when popu¬ 
lar election works well; but when popular election misfires, the 
whole mechanism goes wrong. This explains why the results 
of strong mayor government are so notoriously uneven and 
inconsistent. A slight turn of the wheel of political fortune is 
often sufficient to plunge a city from the heights of good gov¬ 
ernment to the depths of misgovernment, and an equally slight 
turn in the opposite direction will raise the city again to the 
heights. There is little consistency or continuity about it; a 
small handful of votes thrown one way or the other will often 
tip the scale one way or the other and make all the difference 
between the best government and the worst. Popular election 
also has the effect many times of elevating to the office of mayor 
men who make a botch of the job, not because they are weak, 
unprincipled, or corrupt, but because they lack the capacity 
and experience for the management of large affairs. Most 
elected mayors are not only amateurs in public administration 
but amateurs in big business of any sort. They are men who 
have combined politics with law, real estate, insurance, or some 
other vocation that affords leisure for political activity. The 
vocation generally degenerates into an avocation, and politics 
becomes their real vocation. When they arrive in the office of 
mayor they are neophytes so far as the direction and manage¬ 
ment of large business enterprises is concerned — and a mod¬ 
ern city is a huge business enterprise — and no matter how 
well-meaning they may be they bungle and botch the job. 

The distinctive features of the commission plan of city gov¬ 
ernment may be stated very briefly. A body of commissioners 
is elected by direct popular vote. The number of commission¬ 
ers is commonly five, though many of the smaller cities have 
three and some of the larger cities raise the number to seven. 
It is customary for the commissioners to be elected at large, 
and for their terms of office to rotate so that never more than 
two or three places have to be filled at one election. The term 


CITY GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS 


12 I 


of office is rarely less than two years, and the four-year term 
is very common. Sitting and acting as a body, the commission 
functions in a dual capacity. It is the council of the city and 
at the same time the chief executive of the city. Acting in¬ 
dividually, each commissioner is head of an executive depart¬ 
ment and is responsible to the commission as a whole for the 
administration of his department. The common rule is to pay 
the commissioners an adequate salary and to require them to 
give their entire time to the work of the city. They are not as 
a rule elected to specific departments, but, having been elected 
to the commission, are assigned to departments by vote of the 
commission. One of the commissioners bears the title of mayor 
in addition to his commissionership. He is usually the presid¬ 
ing officer of the commission and the ceremonial head of the 
city government, but in point of power stands on the same 
level as the other commissioners. 

There are numerous variations from these standard features, 
but none of them are sufficiently widespread to detract mate¬ 
rially from the accuracy of the outline just given. In some 
cases the commissioners are all elected to specific departments 
by popular vote. The mayor-commissioner is the only one 
elected to a specific portfolio in other commission cities. Some¬ 
times the mayor has the power to assign his colleagues to their 
respective posts. In a few cities under commission government 
the mayor does not head one of the administrative departments 
but acts as a general supervisor and coordinator. In a few 
cases the mayor is given the veto power and special power to 
make appointments. 

What, then, are the essential principles involved in the com¬ 
mission plan? They may be summarized as follows: (i) the 
complete centralization of all power and responsibility, both 
legislative and executive, in a small body known as the com¬ 
mission or council; (2) the election of these commissioners by 
vote of the entire electorate of the city; (3) the selection of all 
city officials and employees, with one or two possible excep¬ 
tions, by the commission; (4) the vesting of complete power 
of removal in the hands of the commission; (5) the determi¬ 
nation of policies, the enactment of legislation, and the super¬ 
vision of administration by the commission as a body; (6) the 
direction of departments by individual commissioners. Where 
these principles are not followed a city cannot be said to have 
commission government, despite any claims to the contrary. 


1. Features 


2. Variants 


3. Essential 
principles 


122 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The arguments which have on different occasions been ad¬ 
vanced in favor of the commission plan are too numerous and 
too varied to be repeated in toto in a brief survey such as we 
are attempting here. Nor are they all worth repeating; many 
of them are too fantastic and extravagant to deserve serious 
consideration. The following summary includes practically all 
the strong points of the case in favor of the commission plan, 
(i) Simplicity. The commission plan eliminates division of 
responsibility, checks and balances, pulling and hauling, “ pass¬ 
ing the buck,” and all the other devious and complicated as¬ 
pects of the older systems of government. By concentrating all 
power and responsibility in a small body of commissioners di¬ 
rectly elected by the people, it facilitates intelligent voting, 
enables the people to follow the operations of city government 
more easily, and definitely locates the blame or the credit for 
everything that occurs in connection with the government of 
the municipality. (2) Democracy. The commission plan 
eliminates wards and ward politics, and thus tends to reduce the 
chances of minority rule. Each of the commissioners is chosen 
by the votes of the entire electorate, and for that reason the 
government of the city, in both its legislative and administra¬ 
tive aspects, must be considered to be representative of all the 
people all the time. (3) Difficulty of machine control. Bosses 
and machines flourish through adroit manipulation of easily 
controlled minorities. It is more difficult for a machine to 
marshal its forces in a general election than in a series of ward 
elections, and it is exceedingly difficult to consolidate ward 
minorities so as to control the election of a majority of the 
commissioners in a general city election. The commission plan, 
so it is contended, avoids the mistake of overconcentration of 
authority in one office and likewise the equally fatal error of 
too great diffusion of authority. The machine has to control 
at least three out of five or four out of seven commissioners in 
order to gain the upper hand, and is at the same time deprived 
of the advantages which, under decentralized government, it 
derives from the long ballot. (4) Superior efficiency. Because 
the members of the city commission devote their whole time to 
the service of the city, and because their election does not de¬ 
pend upon the backing of a political machine, business and pro¬ 
fessional men of high caliber can be enlisted as candidates for 
the commission. The people naturally will prefer such candi¬ 
dates to second-rate machine politicians, and will elect them 


CITY GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS 


123 

to office if given a chance. Once a commission composed of 
high-grade men is put into power, there is nothing to obstruct 
its efforts to administer the government of the city on the high¬ 
est plane of efficiency and economy. The commission has com¬ 
plete power to determine the policies of the city government, 
and equally complete power to control the execution of those 
policies. The same men who formulate the policies are respon¬ 
sible for them and have the power to carry them into effect. 
Consequently they will not only have a double incentive to 
work for good government but also a double capacity for effec¬ 
tive achievement in that direction. 

As has been noted in a previous chapter, the commission plan 
acquired a tremendous vogue in the period between 1907 and 
1917. But by 1917 the tide had turned, and since that time 
the commission plan has been losing ground. At one time ap¬ 
proximately 400 cities were operating under commission gov¬ 
ernment, but the number is much smaller now. Popular inter¬ 
est in commission government has subsided to such a degree 
that no one any longer takes the trouble to compile statistics 
about it. Two major reasons may be cited in explanation of 
this remarkable shift of public opinion. The first is that ex¬ 
perience has disclosed many unsuspected weaknesses in the 
commission plan, and the second is that since 1913 the com¬ 
mission plan has had to compete with the manager plan, which 
seemed to possess all of the strong points of the commission 
plan and to be able at the same time to overcome its most 
conspicuous defects. 

The shortcomings of the commission plan have been espe¬ 
cially noticeable in the larger cities. In cities whose population 
ranges from 50,000 downwards the weaknesses of commission 
government have not been sufficiently serious to cause a sweep¬ 
ing reaction, and many cities of this class will undoubtedly 
retain the commission plan for years to come. But in the 
larger cities the popularity of the commission plan will unques¬ 
tionably continue to decline. The reasons for this may be 
summarized as follows: 

1. A city council of five or seven members is too small to be 
fairly and satisfactorily representative of iji e many diverse ele¬ 
ments of the population of a big city. These elements feel that 
they are entitled to representation, and are dissatisfied and 
disgruntled if they do not get it. 

2. Under the commission plan the number of administrative 


/ 


5. Shortcom¬ 
ings 

J 


I24 URBAN DEMOCRACY 

departments cannot be any greater than the number of com¬ 
missioners. The administrative organization of a big city gen¬ 
erally requires more than five or seven departments, and the 
consolidation of the city’s administrative machinery into so 
small a number of departments often creates serious problems. 

3. It is impossible to increase the size of the commission to 
meet the demand for a more representative council and a larger 
number of administrative departments without sacrificing the 
principle of election at large. Election at large works well only 
when there is a very short ballot. With a long ballot, such as 
would be necessitated by the enlargement of the commission, 
election at large is no better, and may be much worse, than the 
ward system. 

4. The organic unity of power and responsibility, which in 
theory is an inevitable result of commission government, fre¬ 
quently fails to materialize when the commission plan is applied 
to large cities. Each commissioner is elected by vote of the 
entire electorate, and therefore considers himself one of five 
or seven coordinate and equal heads of government. The de¬ 
partment to which he is assigned he comes to regard as his own 
special domain and preserve. Nominally he is as a department 
head subordinate to the commission as a whole, but actually 
the commission interferes with him as little as possible. This 
is partly because the affairs of a big city are so ramified and 
involved that it is all one commissioner can do to keep track of 
his own department, but it is mostly because each commissioner 
is inclined to resent the interference of the commission in the 
management of his department and to strike back whenever 
opportunity offers at the commissioners instigating the action 
against him. A city commission torn with controversies and 
recriminations between its own members cannot function effec¬ 
tively, and in the interest of harmony it is customary for the 
several commissioners to adopt a policy of “ live and let live.” 
When such is the case the commission plan actually produces 
five-headed or seven-headed government instead of single¬ 
headed government. 

5. It is entirely possible for the commissioners, or a majority 
of them, if they are so disposed, to play politics among them¬ 
selves and flim-flam the public to a queen’s taste. Certain 
events of recent occurrence in one of the larger cities under the 
commission plan afford a striking illustration of the political 
possibilities of commission government. Three vacancies, con- 


CITY GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS 


125 

stituting a majority of the commission, were to be filled. By 
an artful campaign in which the forces of civic righteousness 
were divided and outwitted, the elements favoring an “ open 
town ” succeeded in electing all three of their candidates. The 
three commissioners thus elected, being a majority of the com¬ 
mission, then proceeded to organize the commission and parcel 
out the departments according to an apparently preconceived 
understanding. The commissioner of public safety, in evident 
fulfillment of campaign obligations, introduced a policy of tol¬ 
eration in the administration of the police department. In 
course of time he was indicted and tried by a federal court for 
conspiracy to violate the prohibition laws. The jury disagreed 
and he was released on bail to await a second trial. Meanwhile 
what was his position in the city government? When the 
storm broke his friendly colleagues transferred him to another 
and less controversial department, and there he remained to 
the end of his term despite the federal indictment hanging over 
him. A second commissioner, with loud promises of reform, 
took over the department of public safety and after a few 
spectacular gestures allowed things to ride along at an easy 
gait. If he should fail to ride out the storm, another transfer 
could be made and a third commissioner assigned to the task 
of placating public opinion without making any fundamental 
changes. 

6. The final and most fundamental fault of the commission 
plan from the point of view of the large cities is the fact that 
the process of popular election by means of which the members 
of the commission are chosen is fraught with mischance. The 
heterogeneous population of a big city spells opportunity for 
machine politics, and machine politicians have discovered that 
their tactics can be adapted to the election of commissioners 
just about as readily as to the election of ward councilmen and 
mayors. If it were a certainty that the people would always 
elect men of high character and unquestioned ability to the 
city commission, the various shortcomings of the commission 
plan which have been enumerated above would not be fatal. 
But the certainty of this result is in inverse ratio to the magni¬ 
tude of the city’s population, and consequently the larger the 
city the less likely is the commission plan to succeed. 

City manager government is of two principal types — the 
commission-manager type and the council-manager type. The 
only significant difference between these two is found in 


/ 

The city 
manager 
plan 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


126 


the size and structure of the representative organ of government. 
Under the commission-manager system there is a small board 
of commissioners — rarely more than five elected at large 
1 Types just as under the commission plan. The council-manager sys¬ 
tem differs from the foregoing plan only in the size of the rep¬ 
resentative body, which, instead of being a small commission, 
is a council of from nine to twenty-five members elected at 
large, by wards, or by proportional representation. In the dis¬ 
cussion which follows both types will be referred to simply as 
the “ manager plan,” and, unless it is especially desired to dis¬ 
tinguish between the two, the governing body under both sys¬ 
tems will be referred to as the “ council.” 

The cardinal point of distinction between the manager plan 
n| and all other systems of city government is found in the fact 
2 . Cardinal that the manager plan concentrates the entire quantum of po- 
features litical and administrative authority and responsibility in the 
council subject to the condition that the administrative func¬ 
tions of the council shall be discharged through the agency of 


a city manager chosen by the council and continuously under 
its control. There is nothing essentially new about this idea 
except the recency of its application to city government. It 
has been used in public school administration for upwards of 
a century, has been widely employed in quasi-public enter¬ 
prises, and has come to be a very common form of corporate 
, organization in private business. 

3 Diversity In the minor detail s of city manager government there is 
as to office much diversity. Virtually all the city manager charters retain 
of mayor the office of mayorj but not the traditional American mayor. 

The principal business of the mayor in city manager govern¬ 
ment is to preside at meetings of the council and act as cere¬ 
monial head of the city government on public occasions. As a 
rule he is not elected to the office of mayor by popular vote but 
acquires the title of mayor by virtue of having been elected 
president of the council. The more common practice is for the 
council to elect one of its own members to be its president, and 
that person becomes ipso facto the mayor of the city. There 
are, however, some fifty manager cities in which this process is 
reversed, the mayor being elected by direct popular vote and 
becoming thereby the president of the council. Special powers 
have been assigned to the mayor in only a few cases. In one 
or two places the mayor with the consent of the council ap¬ 
points the city manager. A few manager cities give the mayor 


CITY GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS 


127 


power to veto measures passed by the council. Some manager 
charters give the mayor considerable power to appoint and re¬ 
move city officials. In a few cases the mayor is made head of 
the police department, and a considerable number of manager 
charters authorize the mayor to take charge of the police de¬ 
partment, and perhaps other departments, in times of emer¬ 
gency. However, the granting of such exceptional preroga¬ 
tives to the mayor is contrary to the common practice. The 
ordinary position of the mayor in city manager government is 
one of nominal preeminence only, and his actual influence de¬ 
pends upon his personal qualities rather than upon his special 
powers. Except for the fact that he is president of the council, 
and therefore its most conspicuous member, he enjoys no prior¬ 
ity over the other members of the council. 

There is some diversity also as to the office of manager. As 
a general rule the manager holds office at the pleasure of the 
council, which means in practice that he continues in office 4 . Diversity 
until he chooses to resign or is requested by the council to a ® to office 


resign. A few manager charters, however, give the manager a 
fixed term of office. During this term of office the council can 
remove him only for cause, and at the expirati©n of his term 
the appointment must be renewed or a new one made. The 
city manager as a rule has unrestricted authority in the ap¬ 
pointment and removal of subordinate administrative officials; 
but in a few cases the charter requires the manager to obtain 
the consent of the council for removals. It is not uncommon 
for the charter to place some restrictions upon the council’s 
power to remove the manager. These usually take the form of 
requiring the council to prefer charges against the manager in 
writing, to give him notice in advance, and a hearing. Some¬ 
times an extraordinary majority is required to dismiss the 
manager. A few manager cities have made the manager sub¬ 
ject to direct popular recall. In some cases special powers of 
a political character are bestowed upon the manager. 

The theory underlying city manager government is very 
simple. The one particular in which the manager plan breaks The city 
most abruptly and radically with American political traditions ^^ er 
is its complete rejection of the doctrine of separation of pow- theory 



ers in favor of complete legislative supremacy. All authority 
— political, legislative, administrative, or what not—is con¬ 
centrated in a purely legislative and purely representative body, 
the city council. Nothing comparable with this has been 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Legislative 

priority 


The signifi¬ 
cance of 
legislative 
leadership 


128 

known in the United States since the breakdown of the original 
conncilmanic system of government of colonial times. 

This reversion to the principle of legislative priority is 
doubly interesting at the present time, because it not only re¬ 
verses a century-old trend in American municipal development 
but because it also stands squarely contrary to the present 
trends in state and national government. Every publicist who 
has commented upon American political institutions during the 
past century has been obliged to dwell at length upon the de¬ 
cline of legislative bodies and the corresponding growth of ex¬ 
ecutive power and prestige. It is an indubitable fact that for 
more than a century both political leadership and lawmaking 
power have been passing from congress to the president, from 
state legislatures to governors, from city councils to mayors. 
In our state and national governments this trend is now at full 
tide. Popular confidence in congress and state legislatures 
could scarcely sink lower than at present, and there has cer¬ 
tainly never been a time when a president or a governor single- 
handed could wield as much power and influence as now. But 
the city manager movement runs directly contrary to all this. 
The commission plan prepared the way by centering legislative 
and executive functions in one body, but it was not a purely 
representative and legislative body. The commissioners are 
both legislators and executives, and the commission actually 
functions more as an executive directorate than as a represent¬ 
ative assembly. Under the manager plan, however, the coun¬ 
cil, even though it be called a commission, is a legislative and 
political body and nothing else. There is no commingling of 
political and administrative functions. The authority of the 
council extends to every matter within the charter powers of 
the city, but its authority over municipal administration must 
be exercised by the distinctly political expedient of appointing, 
removing, and giving instructions to the city manager. 

What is the significance of this return to legislative priority 
after more than a century of progress in the opposite direction? 
Have the people of our cities lost faith in the capacity of elected 
executives, playing the role of Moses, to lead us out of the 
wilderness of corruption, extravagance, and misgovernment into 
the promised land of purity, economy, and efficiency? Cer¬ 
tainly the Moses doctrine is a bit hard to swallow after behold¬ 
ing the performances of some of our present-day mayors and 
city commissioners. In the hard school of experience we are 


CITY GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS 


129 

gradually learning that political leadership and executive stew¬ 
ardship cannot be mixed without disastrous results to both. 
If the office of mayor is exalted to the pivotal position in the 
government of the city and the council is reduced to a sec¬ 
ondary role, serious difficulties arise. The council is elected 
to represent and speak for the people, but does not have the 
power to make itself effective. The mayor is also elected to 
represent and speak for the people, but he is also the chief ex¬ 
ecutive of the city. If he takes his executive responsibilities 
seriously, he will almost certainly become so immersed in the 
routine details of administration that he will lose sight of his 
political responsibilities, as was the case with the late Mayor 
Mitchel of New York. On the contrary, if the mayor is more 
interested in politics than in administration, he will in all 
probability devote himself so completely to the building and 
mending of political fences that the business operations of the 
city will degenerate into a perfect bedlam. In an ancient book 
it is written that no man can serve two masters, and likewise it 
might be recorded that no man or group of men can satisfy the 
demands of both politics and administration. In the commis¬ 
sion governed cities the situation is even worse, for there we 
have three, five, or seven persons simultaneously essaying the 
role of Moses and combining in their persons the political and 
administrative headship of the city. We do not send a ship to 
sea with three or five captains in equal authority, nor an army 
into battle with three or five generals in equal command. We 
do not require the captain of a ship to divide his time and 
thought between the sailing of the ship and the policies of the 
company which owns it, nor do we expect a general to divide 
his mind between the fighting of battles and the solution of 
diplomatic problems. How, then, can we justify the commin¬ 
gling of politics and administration in municipal government? 

The manager plan strives to avoid this error by centralizing 
all authority in a distinctly and purely political and repre¬ 
sentative body and then requiring this body to employ a non¬ 
political chief executive — a business manager, if you will 
to carry out its decisions. The gains which are supposed to 
result from this device may be summarized as follows: (1) 
The entire responsibility for governing the city and adminis¬ 
tering its affairs is placed upon a body consisting of persons 
selected primarily to serve as popular representatives and 
nothing else. (2) The voters have the simplest possible task 


The manager 
plan attempts 
to separate 
politics and 
administra¬ 
tion. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The con¬ 
trolled 
executive 


130 

in electing members of the council, because they do not have 
to pass upon the executive qualifications of the candidates. 
They merely have to vote for the candidate who seems to 
stand for the policies which they prefer in city government. 
(3) The council will Choose a city manager with special quali¬ 
fications for directing the administrative service of the city, 
because the political security of the council will depend as much 
upon the work of the city manager as upon the popularity of 
its legislative policies. (4) The city manager, not having to 
campaign for office, and having no political duties or responsi¬ 
bilities, will devote himself exclusively to administration and 
will try to make a record which will so impress the people of 
the city that the council will have to keep him in office. Pre¬ 
sumably, he will have no other way to win popular favor. 

The second point of generic difference between the manager 
plan and other types of municipal government is what has 
sometimes been styled the “ controlled executive.” The preva¬ 
lent type of executive organization in the United States is what 
is known in political parlance as the “ independent executive.” 
Our traditional ideas of government call for a distinct separa¬ 
tion of executive and legislative organs of government, each to 
be independent of the other in its own sphere of action. Con¬ 
sequently our president, governors, and mayors are elected by 
popular vote, and are not subject to legislative control except 
through the general process of lawmaking. In other countries 
the idea of separation of powers is not so popular. The munici¬ 
pal executive as well as the national executive in most European 
countries is completely under the heel of the legislative organ 
of government. In the national governments of England, 
France, Germany, and other countries having parliamentary 
government the executive is organized as a part of the legisla¬ 
ture, functions through the legislature, is responsible for politi¬ 
cal leadership in the legislature, and may be turned out of 
office by an adverse majority in the legislature. This is what 
is known as the “ responsible executive.” In municipal gov¬ 
ernment in these countries the executive is chosen by and con¬ 
trolled by the legislative body, but is not generally an integral 
part of the legislature and is responsible to the legislature for 
the management of the administrative service, but not for 
taking the initiative in the formulation and adoption of policies. 
This system of executive organization has come to be known 
as the “ controlled executive.” 


CITY GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS 


131 


The controlled executive has been one of the most extrava¬ 
gantly admired features of city manager government. The city 
manager is head of the executive establishment of the city. He 
is not elected by popular vote, but is appointed by the council 
to be its agent in directing and managing the administrative 
operations of the city government. He does not have a defi¬ 
nite term of office, may be removed by the council at any time, 
and is therefore subject to continuous control. At the same 
time it is not his duty to formulate policies and push legislation 
through the council. He may advise and recommend, but if 
his suggestions are not adopted he is not called upon to resign. 
He proceeds to carry out the policies which have been adopted 
just as sincerely and efficiently as if they were his own. In 
brief he is regarded as a technician employed to carry out 
whatever policies may be adopted, regardless of his own opin¬ 
ion as to their soundness and wisdom. He is at liberty to 
resign at any time if he feels that the actions of the council 
place him in an intolerable situation, just as the president of 
a bank may resign if the directors force him to adopt what he 
deems to be unsound banking practice. But he is not obliged 
to resign any more than a bank president is obliged to resign 
simply because his own proposals have not been followed. 
Champions of city manager government believe that the con¬ 
trolled executive principle will give the following results: (1) 
That the city manager and his subordinates will be selected on 
the basis of technical proficiency, and that this will result in 
administration by experts. (2) That the expert administrative 
establishment will be under the continuous and effective con¬ 
trol of an elected council having power to control but not to 
meddle. (3) That the administrative branch of the govern¬ 
ment will be exceptionally sensitive to public opinion because 
of the fact that it may be turned out of office at any moment 
if popular sentiment demands it, and that the council will be 
obliged to sustain and support the city manager and his sub¬ 
ordinates so long as they are rendering satisfactory service be¬ 
cause it would not dare to dismiss a city manager who was 
popular with the people. 

Undoubtedly the most controversial feature of city manager 
government is the abandonment of popular election in choosing 
the chief executive of the city. Defenders of the faith have 
arisen in all parts of the land to denounce the city manager 
plan as undemocratic and un-American. Perhaps it is undemo- 


Advantages 
claimed for 
the controlled 
executive 
principle 



The ap¬ 
pointed chief 
executive 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


132 


Does the 
manager 
plan obviate 
executive 
leadership? 




cratic, but it is no more un-American than the public school 
system which has followed the same method of choosing the 
chief executive for more than a century. If it is wise and 
proper to have city school superintendents appointed by boards 
of education instead of being elected by popular vote, it may be 
equally desirable to have city managers appointed by city 
councils instead of having them chosen by direct election. Like 
school superintendents, city managers are supposed to be se¬ 
lected on the basis of technical proficiency and not on the basis 
of political popularity. 

Many thoughtful students of American institutions, however, 
object to the abolition of the elected chief executive not on the 
ground that it is undemocratic but on the ground that it is not 
consonant with the peculiar characteristics of American democ¬ 
racy. Their argument is that a heterogeneous people — and 
the urban masses in the United States are the most mixed and 
composite groups of people on the face of the earth — require 
a dynamic and integrating leadership similar to that of the 
chieftain of a primitive war band. Group leadership, accord¬ 
ing to these critics, does not supply that indispensable force, 
and consequently they feel that it is a mistake to exchange the 
leadership of an elected mayor for that of a council or commis¬ 
sion. The proponents of city manager government answer this 
argument by saying that the ultimate success or failure of 
democracy depends upon its utilization of the representative 
principle. Direct democracy, they contend, is impossible in a 
complex industrial society. Representative government is the 
only kind of government that has a chance to succeed in the 
long run, and they do not consider one-man government truly 
representative. Vigorous and self-reliant democracy, so they 
contend, can be achieved only through collective leadership in 
legislative bodies. The manager plan not only provides an 
opportunity for such leadership, but actually stimulates and 
fosters it. Which of these positions is correct only the test of 
time can tell. 

It is doubtful whether the theoretical bases of city manager 
government have been clearly grasped by the general public; 
but there is certainly an intuitive and widespread feeling that 
the city manager plan is inherently different from all other 
schemes of city government, and capable for that reason of 
producing better government than can be expected under any 
other system. This undoubtedly accounts for the amazing 


CITY GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS 


133 

progress of the city manager movement. According to the 
computations of the international City Managers’ Association, 
there were on March 10, 1928, 361 cities operating under the 
manager plan in the United States, and 17 in the British Do¬ 
minions. This means that 350 cities adopted the manager plan 
in the decade between 1918 and 1928, for in 1918 the total 
number of manager cities was only 26. 

Of the American cities under city manager government only 
10 rank above the 100,000 mark in population. These are 
Miami, Fla., Indianapolis, Ind., Grand Rapids, Mich., Kansas 
City, Mo., Rochester, N. Y., Cincinnati, O., Cleveland, O., 
Dayton, O., Fort Worth, Tex., and Norfolk, Va. Only 22 of 
the manager cities, including the 10 just named, rank above 
50,000 in population. It is evident, therefore, that the chief 
conquests of city manager government have occurred in small 
cities and small towns. The banner year for city manager 
adoptions was 1921 with 49; since that time the movement 
seems to have slowed down. Whether this means a permanent 
turning of the tide or simply a temporary let-up remains to be 
seen. 

No attempt should be made to formulate conclusions as to 
advantages and disadvantages, successes or failures, of the 
manager plan without keeping in mind the chasm between 
small-town and big-town conditions. Argument by analogy is 
a frail device at best; but when attempts are made to deduce 
from the experience of small municipalities the probable results 
of city manager government in huge metropolitan centers, it 
should be apparent without argument that comparisons are 
dangerous and misleading. The political processes of those 
immense urban jungles which have sprung up during the last 
century cannot be accurately compared with the relatively sim¬ 
ple political life of a country town or a modest municipality of 
50,000 inhabitants. In the small city there is a simplicity of 
social life and organization, a communal cohesiveness, a mo¬ 
bility of public opinion, and an immediacy of contact between 
the government and the people which do not exist in large 
metropolitan centers. In a small city fully half or more of the 
voting population know all of the more prominent city officials 
by sight at least. Most of the voters have contacts and con¬ 
nections which enable tlfem to learn something about the pri¬ 
vate as well as the public careers of their leading officials, and 
which tend toward the development of a definite feeling of com- 


v/ 


The number 
of manager 
cities in 1928 


The size of 

manager 

cities 


V 


Differences 
between 
operation 
of manager 
plan in large 
and small 
cities 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


i 


Factors in 
the success 
of city 
manager 
government 




The record 
of the man¬ 
ager plan in 
the larger 
cities not 
convincing 


134 

munity consciousness. Such is not the case in a vast, sprawl¬ 
ing metropolitan area which numbers its inhabitants by hun¬ 
dreds of thousands and millions. Only a tiny fraction of the 
voting public ever sees or knows anything about the major 
officials of the city except as mythical personages whose names 
and faces are constantly played up in the newspapers and tab¬ 
loids. The average urbanite’s orbit of life does not take him 
into circles which give him either direct or indirect contact 
with public mysteries, and his political horizon is very likely 
to be bounded by the block in which he lives or the racial or 
religious group to which he belongs. 

The success of city manager government admittedly depends 
upon alert, dynamic, informed, and aggressive public opinion. 
It takes the right kind of council to get the right kind of man¬ 
ager, and it takes the right kind of public opinion to get the 
right kind of council. When these conditions are satisfied, the 
manager plan presents a combination of all-powerful represen¬ 
tative authority aided and guided by unhampered but readily 
controlled administrative science that is capable of producing 
marvelous results. Conditions are decidedly more conducive 
in the smaller municipalities to the development of intelligent, 
vigorous, and united public opinion than in the big cities. It 
is not strange, therefore, to find that the city manager plan has 
an almost unchallenged record of achievement in the lesser 
cities of the country. Making all possible allowances for ex¬ 
aggeration and all possible deductions on account of exuberant 
optimism, one must nevertheless concede that the reports of 
achievement in the minor municipalities which have adopted 
city manager government constitute an almost unparalleled 
record of civic accomplishment. 

But when we turn to the larger cities, the record is not quite 
so convincing; and if we confine our attention to manager 
cities having upwards of a quarter of a million inhabitants, we 
find much reason for reserving judgment. There are only five 
manager cities of truly metropolitan proportions. These are 
Indianapolis (314,194), Kansas City (324,410), Rochester 
(295,750), Cincinnati (401,247), and Cleveland (769,841). 
Not one of these cities, with the possible exception of Cleve¬ 
land, has been operating under the city manager plan long 
enough to warrant definitive conclusions. The manager plan 
was adopted in Indianapolis in 1927 but does not take effect 
until November, 1929; in Rochester the manager charter went 


CITY GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS 


135 

into operation in January, 1928. These two cities must be 
ruled out of consideration, therefore, for some time to come. 

The city manager charter of Kansas City took effect in Kansas citrs 
April, 1926. Her experience with the new form of government ““^ r ent 
has been too brief for anything more than tentative conclusions, 
but the results thus far have been none too promising. Pro¬ 
fessor Leonard D. White, after a careful survey of the situation 
on the ground, sums up the achievements of city manager gov¬ 
ernment in Kansas City in very questioning terms: 


Kansas City is not enjoying as good government as the friends 
of the council-manager charter anticipated, because the city machin¬ 
ery has been captured by an old-line political machine and is being 
used for spoils politics of the old order. Kansas City now represents 
the type of government which may be expected under the council- 
manager plan when spoils politicians are put in power by popular 
vote. It is difficult to say that any fundamental improvement has 
been made or to expect that it will be made until the voters of 
Kansas City elect a different type of councilman. 1 

Cincinnati’s city manager charter was put into operation in 
January, 1926. The adoption of the new charter was the cul¬ 
mination of a civic uprising whose object was to break the grip 
of a vicious political machine which had played fast and loose 
with the government of the city for many years. It was a 
very simple instrument, providing for a council of nine mem¬ 
bers elected at large by the Hare system of proportional repre¬ 
sentation, and for a city manager to be chosen by this body. 
The reformers were not only successful in putting over the 
charter, but also succeeded in capturing a majority of the seats 
in the new council. The new government then proceeded to 
wipe the slate clean. It appointed as city manager an excep¬ 
tionally well qualified army officer, not a resident of Cincinnati, 
and placed the administrative service of the city upon a strictly 
merit basis. Under this regime Cincinnati has enjoyed splen¬ 
did government, better perhaps than she has ever known in the 
past. The only disturbing fear in the minds of the friends of 
the new system is the possible “ come-back ” of the old ma¬ 
chine. It has displayed remarkable vitality in defeat, is well 
organized and capably led, and no great volte-face of the usu¬ 
ally unstable electorate would be needed to sweep it back into 
power. What might then happen to the government of Cin¬ 
cinnati is not pleasant to contemplate. 

1 White, The City Manager, pp. 57-58. 


V 



Manager 
government 
in Cincinnati 


\ 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The manager 
plan in 
Cleveland 


The dubious 
future of 
the manager 
plan in 
Cleveland 


I36 

The case of Cleveland is the most difficult of all to discuss 
in the limited range of a few paragraphs. The city manager 
charter of Cleveland, although adopted in 1921, did not take 
effect until the first day of January, 1924. It was regarded at 
the time as a model charter, a product of the skilled and cun¬ 
ning hand of the country’s most eminent charter draftsman, 
Professor A. R. Hatton. It provided for a council of 25 mem¬ 
bers to be elected from four great districts by means of the 
Hare system of proportional representation. The council was 
charged with the responsibility of appointing and controlling 
the city manager, and with the sole responsibility for the deter¬ 
mination of municipal policies. Elaborate and detailed safe¬ 
guards were introduced in the charter for the purpose of com¬ 
bating the spoils system and discouraging machine politics.. 

The writer of these lines was a resident of Cleveland during 
the campaign for the adoption of city manager government and 
during the first eighteen months of the new government’s career. 
It was his good fortune to be in fairly close contact with both 
the pro-manager and the anti-manager forces, and to see a 
good deal of both sides of the controversy from a ringside seat. 
Being deeply interested in the movement, he undertook to 
accumulate every particle of information which would throw 
light upon the many conflicting and apparently inexplicable 
occurrences connected with the new government. After moving 
away from Cleveland he made two visits to the city, one in 
1926 and one in 1928, and spent several days renewing his con¬ 
tacts with local politics. It might be supposed that one would 
emerge from such a background of close personal observation 
with definite and categorical convictions as to the success or 
failure of city manager government in Cleveland, but such is 
not the case. The writer does not feel that the facts warrant 
any such conviction. 

It seems probable at the time of this writing that Cleveland 
sooner or later will return to the strong mayor system which 
prevailed before the adoption of the manager charter. Already 
there have been three attempts to bring about such a reversion, 
the last one, in April, 1928, failing by a portentously narrow 
margin and then only because of a factional rupture in the 
Republican organization of the city. If Cleveland should aban¬ 
don the city manager plan, what would it mean? That city 
manager government has been a failure in Cleveland? Not 
necessarily. To the writer it would mean this: that structural 


CITY GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS 


137 


reform in city government in order to achieve lasting success 
must rest upon a somewhat more substantial basis than senti¬ 
mentality, idealism, vehement denunciation of the wickedness 
of the bosses. The city manager plan has had a good chance 
to succeed in Cleveland, and it cannot be said that it has given 
Cleveland bad government or any worse government than it had 
before. Whether it might have succeeded to a greater degree 
had it not been for certain unfortunate circumstances involving 
the personal idiosyncrasies of various individuals prominently 
identified with the city manager movement both before and 
after the inauguration of the new government, is a question that 
might be debated indefinitely without reaching a profitable 
conclusion. 

The crux of the situation in Cleveland is the city council, 
just as it is and always will be in every city under the manager 
plan. The Cleveland charter provides for a system of election 
that is as nearly ideal from the point of view of political reform 
as any large city is ever likely to have. The ward system is 
abolished. Councilmen are elected at large from four great 
districts which conform as closely as possible to the natural 
geographic, social, and economic divisions of the city. Instead 
of being elected by the general ticket plan, the members of the 
council are chosen by means of the Hare system of proportional 
representation, which favors the independent candidate and 
the independent voter at every turn of the game. Yet under 
this system, made to order for the forces of reform and good 
government, the machine politicians captured a decisive major¬ 
ity of the seats in the first council elected under the new gov¬ 
ernment and have strengthened that majority in the two sub¬ 
sequent elections. The reformers, independent apostles of civic 
uplift as they were, had as good a chance to get a majority of 
the seats as the politicians had; but their chief weapon was 
talk, while the politicians fought with organization and with 
money. 

The political bosses in Cleveland may have no better ethics 
than their prototypes in other cities, but they know the value 
of respectability. When it came to selecting a city manager, 
the council, under boss dictation, appointed a man so promi¬ 
nent in the life of the city and so impeccably “ right ” in every 
respect as to disarm all opposition. Lawyer, railway builder, 
promoter, club man, orator, politician — he has been every¬ 
thing that Cleveland could possibly expect of a mayor. City 


It all de¬ 
pends upon 
the council. 


The boss- 
controlled 
council 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Contradic¬ 
tory opinions 
as to the 
success or 
failure of the 
manager 
plan in 
Cleveland 


Criticisms of 
Citizens* 
League of 
Cleveland 


I38 

manager government in Cleveland has become largely identi¬ 
fied with the personality of the city manager. The manager 
undoubtedly has “ played the game ” with the bosses and the 
politicians, but how much or how little is a matter difficult to 
judge. One hears strange stories mentioning jobs, contracts, 
insurance policies, bond issues, and the like; but none of these 
can be confirmed. 

What sort of government has Cleveland enjoyed under this 
regime? The answer depends’ very largely upon who tells the 
story. Some residents of Cleveland will tell you that the city 
has been looted as never before, but very much more cleverly; 
others believe that, despite the inferior character of the coun¬ 
cil, nothing worse than minor peculations have occurred; still 
others think that on the whole the city has had as good gov¬ 
ernment under the manager plan as under any previous plan, 
or better. The great mass of Clevelanders, however, if one 
may judge by the frequent and sudden shifting of their votes 
from one side of the question to the other, have no fixed and 
clear conviction on the subject. They voted the city manager 
plan in on impulse, and they will probably vote it out in the 
same way. 

The Citizens’ League of Cleveland, a civic watch and ward 
society which has always been a staunch defender of the man¬ 
ager charter, took occasion, after the narrow escape of the man¬ 
ager system at the charter election of April 24, 1928, to advise 
the council and the manager as to the course they should 
pursue in order to avert such a disaster as the abolition of 
city manager government. The points mentioned by this strong 
supporter of city manager government are most instructive in¬ 
deed. The council was advised: (1) to reorganize for effective 
legislative work, (2) to cease meddling in administration, (3) 
to develop a critical, fearless, and aggressive minority, (4) to 
get busy on large unfinished tasks, and (5) to find new leader¬ 
ship. The city manager was advised: (1) to recognize the 
fundamentals of the new form of government, (2) to keep in 
closer touch with the council, (3) to be first and last an ad¬ 
ministrator, (4) to accept more readily the advice and services 
of disinterested groups of citizens and less readily the demands 
of partisan leaders and councilmen, and (5) to keep the public 
properly informed. 2 . 

Assuming that the council and the manager needed these 
2 Greater Cleveland, May 3, 1928. 


CITY GOVERNMENT SYSTEMS 


139 


admonitions, it would seem that city manager government in 
Cleveland has encountered serious difficulties that not even the 
best charter drawn by the most expert draftsman in America 
could avert. The main trouble, of course, lies in the party sys¬ 
tem. The party system in a big city is a spider web that has 
enmeshed and nullified many a reform movement. Whether 
the city manager movement will surmount this obstacle remains 
yet to be demonstrated. 

Selected References 

W. Anderson, American City Government, Chap. XIII. 

A. C. Hanford, Problems in Municipal Government, Chaps. V, VI, 
VII. 

C. C. Maxey, Readings in Municipal Government, Chap. III. 

W. B. Munro, The Government of American Cities (4th ed.), 
Chaps. XV, XVI, XVII. 

T. H. Reed, Municipal Government in the United States, Chaps. 
X, XI, XII, XIII. 

J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chaps. XX, 
XXI. 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Which form of government prevails in your own city? Do you 
regard it as the best form of government for your city? 

2. Resolved, that the councilmanic system is better suited to the 
needs of small towns and villages than any other system of munici¬ 
pal government. Argue one side or the other of the foregoing 
question. 

3. A city of 35,000 inhabitants governed under the commission 
plan, with a mayor and four commissioners elected at large at annual 
salaries of $4,000 each, is contemplating a change to the manager 
plan, with a council of seven elected by wards and compensated on 
a per diem basis and a city manager at a salary of $6,000 a year. 
As a citizen of this community A*muld you favor or oppose such a 
change? Why? 

4. Would the manager plan be as successful in New York City 
as in a city of 50,000 inhabitants? List all of the factors which in 
your opinion might make a difference between the two cases. 

5. Would it be prudent for a city of upwards of a half-million 
inhabitants, having a strong mayor plan with a council of nine mem¬ 
bers elected at large, to abandon this plan and adopt the manager 
plan with a council of twenty-five members elected by wards or 
districts? Would the use of proportional representation in the elec¬ 
tion of the council make any difference? 


CHAPTER XIII 

FORM AND FUNCTION: A RECAPITULATION 


Importance 
of adapting 
form to 
function 


The basic 
functions of 
city govern¬ 
ment 


It is an ancient axiom of political science that the major 
problem in devising governmental machinery is the adaptation 
of form to function. In nature we observe that the organisms 
which triumph in the struggle for existence are those in which 
structure is most perfectly adapted to the work to be done; in 
mechanics we know that the most successful machine is the 
one that is soundly designed with reference to the work it must 
do; and similarly in government we find that the best system 
of government in the long run is the one which is most suc¬ 
cessfully accommodated to the particular tasks it is called upon 
to perform. Naturally this means that it is unwise to general¬ 
ize very dogmatically about systems of government; that there 
is no such thing as a perfect system of government; and that 
the intelligent approach to the study of political mechanisms 
is from the functional side. 

The application of this principle to municipal government 
calls for a brief reconsideration of the functions of city govern¬ 
ment. The city, as we know it, is not a sovereign or even a 
semi-sovereign political entity; on the contrary it is distinctly 
a subordinate unit of government, and exists for two main pur¬ 
poses: (i) to serve as an agency of the central government, 
and (2) to serve as a convenient instrumentality for the man¬ 
agement of purely local affairs. The central government de¬ 
cides what are and what are not local affairs, and in general 
practice the line of cleavage is drawn in such a way that the 
sphere of local affairs includes only those functions which the 
central authorities conceive to be of local character. The tend¬ 
ency of the central authorities is to confine municipal govern¬ 
ment to the narrowly restricted business of providing and carry¬ 
ing on the administrative services necessary to execute state or 
general law within the city, and to supply the peculiar needs of 
the inhabitants of the municipality for local utilities. The de¬ 
cision of broad questions of policy is reserved so far as possible 
to the central government, and this is invariably the case with 
policies of more than local effect. 

140 


FORM AND FUNCTION 


141 


The work of city government thus comes to be primarily ad¬ 
ministrative, and the political aspects of city government, when 
not predetermined by action of the central authorities, have to 
do mainly with the planning, direction, and control of adminis¬ 
trative services for local purposes. Such being the case, the 
obvious criterion of excellence in passing judgment upon the 
machinery of city government is its adaptation to the uses of 
centrally controlled local administration. The best way, per¬ 
haps, to apply this criterion is to place the principal organs of 
city government under the microscope, seeing what each is re¬ 
quired to do and what sort of organization is best suited to the 
doing of that particular kind of work. 

Let us begin with the city council. This organ of govern¬ 
ment in some form is found everywhere. It is said to be the 
representative, political, policy-determining, supervising and 
controlling organ of government. Its business is to make minor 
local laws in conformity with and supplementing the general 
laws, and to enact local legislation dealing with matters not 
covered by general laws. But lawmaking is not its chief func¬ 
tion; its primary job is to represent and act in behalf of the 
people of the city in providing, sustaining, supervising, and di¬ 
recting the necessary administrative services. These services 
are necessitated by the fact that the city is a municipal corpo¬ 
ration and is therefore obligated to execute state law within its 
boundaries as well as to provide for the special needs of the 
people of the city in the way of community services and con¬ 
veniences. It is clear, then, that the organization of the city 
council should satisfy two requirements: (i) It should repre¬ 
sent the people of the city as faithfully as possible. (2) It 
should have effective control over the process of administra¬ 
tion. These requirements appear to be simple, but they are 
not easily met. 

How can a representative council be secured? In small cities 
the problem is not particularly difficult. The interests to be 
represented are neither numerous nor diverse, and hence it is 
likely that any simple scheme of organization, coupled with a 
direct and well-safeguarded system of election, will give ade¬ 
quate representation. But in large cities the interests desir¬ 
ing representation are so many and of such heterogeneous char¬ 
acter that fair and adequate representation is not easy to secure. 
First, there is the question of the size of the council. A small 
council in a large city has too few members to afford repre- 


The work of 
city govern¬ 
ment is 
primarily ad¬ 
ministrative. 


The city 
council con¬ 
sidered from 
a functional 
standpoint 


How to se¬ 
cure a 
representa¬ 
tive council 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


What should 
be the size 
of the 
council? 


American 
and European 
practices 
contrasted 


142 

sentation to all of the important and articulate groups which 
make up the municipal electorate. Yet if the council be unduly 
large it may give representation to minor and inconsequential 
groups whose chief concern in city government is u pork ” or 
patronage. 

In respect to the size of the city council there is a sharp 
and instructive contrast between European and American 
practice. Europe, as has been noted in previous chapters, 
clings to the large city council numbering from twenty to more 
than one hundred, but American cities have so reduced the size 
of the council in recent years that twenty is now regarded as 
abnormally large. Altogether there are not more than a dozen 
cities in the United States having councils of more than twenty 
members, and the average contains from three to fifteen mem¬ 
bers — just about the size of a normal councilmanic committee 
in Europe. American cities have abandoned the large council 
because of the enormous scandals arising in connection with 
such bodies in this country, and also because they have proved 
to be unwieldy and cumbersome instruments for the oversight 
and control of administrative processes. European experience 
with the large city council has not run parallel to ours. Euro¬ 
pean city councils have not fallen prey to political corruption 
because, in the first place, they have eschewed the spoils sys¬ 
tem, and because, in the second place, they have been subjected 
to most exacting central administrative control in managing 
the police, the public utilities, and in certain other functions 
involving large possibilities of corruption. Nor have European 
city councils experienced much difficulty in achieving effective 
councilmanic control over the processes of administration. 
This result may be ascribed to four facts: (1) European cities 
have never experimented with separation of powers and checks 
and balances. (2) European cities have generally developed 
special machinery within the council, such as standing com¬ 
mittees, adjoints, or joint commissions, for keeping in touch 
with administration. (3) European city councils have not 
introduced the spoils system, but have relied in the main upon 
a relatively permanent administrative corps made up of skilled 
experts. (4) Central administrative control and supervision 
goes so far in European countries that city councils have 
been relieved of much of the responsibility for municipal 
administration. 

The second major problem in dealing with the structure of 


FORM AND FUNCTION 


M 3 

the city council is the method by which the members of the 
council are elected. The simplest method is to have all of the 
members of the council elected at large on a general ticket. 
This method is favored where the council is small enough to 
permit the voters to acquire some knowledge of all the candi¬ 
dates. Election at large is universal under the commission plan 
in the United States, and is likewise common under city man¬ 
ager government. It is also found in cities having other types 
of city government when the council is small enough to permit. 
When not more than two or three councilmen are to be elected 
at one time, this system works fairly well. The best feature of 
the general ticket system is that it obliges each candidate to 
appeal to the entire electorate and thus tends to bring out men 
of greater prominence and ability and to impress upon the 
candidates a broader sense of responsibility. Its chief weak¬ 
ness is the danger, indeed the probability, of so dividing the 
electorate, by reason of the plurality of candidacies, that a 
minority of the electorate will be able to choose a majority of 
the councilmen. This probability naturally increases with the 
number of places to be filled at a given election. For this rea¬ 
son the system of election at large works very badly when used 
in connection with the large city council. The voter is con¬ 
fronted with such a staggering array of candidates and has so 
many choices to make that he votes either recklessly and 
blindly or only for one or two of the candidates in whom he 
happens to be particularly interested. If he votes blindly, the 
composition of the council is determined by sheer chance or 
by the insidious manipulations of political machines; and if 
he votes only for one or two candidates about whom he knows 
something, he has used only part of his voting power and has 
allowed the other places in the council to go by default to can¬ 
didates for whom he expressed no preference. In either case 
the council is almost sure to be a misrepresentative and 
minority-ridden body. 

To escape these calamitous consequences cities with large 
councils have resorted to the ward or district system of elec¬ 
tion. This system in some form is practically universal in the 
larger cities of Europe, and is very common in the United 
States. In this country the single-member district has been 
preferred, but in Europe the plural-member district is some¬ 
what more common. Where the plural-member district is used, 
it is necessary either to elect all the members for a ward or dis- 


How should 
the members 
of the 
council be 
elected? 


The general 

ticket 

system 


The ward 
system 






144 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The ward 
system con¬ 
demned in 
the United 
States. 


The ward 
system works 
well in 
Europe. 


trict on a general ticket at one time or to rotate the terms of 
the members from each ward so that there will be only one 
vacancy at a time. Both plans are extensively employed. 
When all of the members come up for election or reelection at 
the same time, the council is likely to be somewhat more imme¬ 
diately responsive to current changes in public opinion than 
when the terms overlap so that only a fraction of the member¬ 
ship is renewed at each election. On the other hand, when the 
councilmanic terms rotate so that the council is a continuous 
body, it is much more likely to manifest that tendency toward 
stability, conservatism, solidity, and non-partisanship which is 
highly valued in municipal government. 

The ward system of election has been unmercifully repro¬ 
bated by municipal reformers in the United States. It has been 
denounced as the cornerstone of bossism and the chief cause of 
the spoils system. The ward is a tiny geographical subdivision 
of the city whose inhabitants ordinarily have few common in¬ 
terests except that they live in the same area and elect a mem¬ 
ber of the city council. A small minority of the people of the 
ward may be actively interested in obtaining perquisites of one 
kind or another from or through the city government, but the 
great majority care little about the ward as such and are in¬ 
different as to its representation in the council. Therefore it is 
claimed that it is easy for a political machine to build up a 
strong and permanent organization in the ward, for all it has 
to do is to enlist the support of the mercenary voters and their 
families and friends. The non-machine voters are too apathetic 
to vote or they scatter their votes so widely that they are in¬ 
effective, while the machine voters stick together and carry the 
ward. Glued together by a common interest in the spoils of 
political warfare, the adherents of the machine, though almost 
always a minority, present a solid front and thus insure the 
election of their candidate nine times out of ten. For this 
reason the ward system has sunk so low in popular esteem in 
the United States that it now has few defenders. 

In Europe, on the contrary, the ward system is still popular, 
and has displayed few, if any, of the vices which have been in¬ 
cidental to its operation in the United States. Is the explanation 
of this difference to be found in the greater purity and idealism 
of municipal politics in Europe or in basic dissimilarities be¬ 
tween the processes of government in European and American 
cities? The latter is much the more probable and rational. 


FORM AND FUNCTION 


145 

European cities are subject to continuous and rigid surveil¬ 
lance by administrative agents of the central government, but 
central control in the United States generally takes the form 
of statutory enactments which are enforceable only by judicial 
processes. This means that central control in the United States 
is spasmodic and intermittent, and can be made effective only 
when someone, either a prosecuting attorney or a private citi¬ 
zen, is sufficiently interested to inaugurate and carry through 
a lawsuit. As a consequence, American city councils have a 
great deal more leeway for political pettifogging than European 
city councils. Furthermore, European cities have been greatly 
influenced by a tradition that does not exist in the United 
States. The European municipality is in a sense a lineal de¬ 
scendant of the mediaeval trade guild, and consequently there 
is still a strong feeling that a municipality is a strictly business 
institution. This is enhanced by the fact that the population 
is homogeneous and fettered by a consciousness of the social 
inferiority of the great mass of people. The members of the 
city council generally come from the upper classes, as do prac¬ 
tically all public officials, and they naturally are sensitive to 
the pressure exerted by the central administrative authorities 
and are prone to place the business of administration in the 
hands of professional civil servants who are capable of con¬ 
ducting the affairs of the municipality in conformity with the 
standards set by the central authorities. It makes little differ¬ 
ence, therefore, whether the members of European city coun¬ 
cils are elected at large or by wards; the council operates under 
a system of central supervision and subject to social and po¬ 
litical traditions which take it along a pathway quite different 
from that pursued by the average American city council no 
matter how it may be elected. 

In recent years proportional representation has been intro¬ 
duced as a superior mode of electing city councils. 1 The so- 

1 There are many different schemes of proportional representation, but 
a common thread of principle runs through them all. It is that the dis¬ 
tribution of representation should follow primarily the divisions of opin¬ 
ion among the voters rather than territorial or other divisions. To 
accomplish the division of representation according to opinion many 
ingenious devices are employed. 

The Hare system of proportional representation, which is the plan in 
vogue in Cleveland and Cincinnati, relies upon the single transferable 
vote. Regardless of the number of places to be filled at the election, each 
voter’s ballot is counted for one candidate only. The voter marks his 


Proportional 

represen¬ 

tation 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


146 

called “ list ” system of proportional representation is now 
widely used in the cities of Germany, Belgium, Austria, and 
other countries of continental Europe, while the Hare system 
has been introduced in Cleveland, Cincinnati, and several 

ballot preferentially, using the figure 1 for his first choice, 2 for his second 
choice, and so on until he has indicated as many preferences as he desires 
to express. On the first count each voter’s ballot is credited to the can¬ 
didate marked as first choice on that ballot. But the number of votes 
required to elect is not a majority or a plurality, as in other systems, but 
an electoral quota which is deemed to be a fair and sound division of the 
total number of votes according to the number of places to be filled. To 
arrive at this quota the total number of votes is divided by the number 
of places to be filled plus one, and the whole number next above the 
quotient resulting from this division is taken as the quota. This quota 
actually represents the lowest number of votes a candidate could receive 
and still not have less than the proportion requisite to fill one place. 
Thus if there were three places to be filled it would not be fair to re¬ 
quire a candidate to poll more than one-third of the votes in order to be 
elected, nor would it be fair to allow him to be elected by as few as one- 
fourth of the votes, for that would be the maximum requirement in case 
there were four places to be filled. By taking the smallest whole number 
between a fourth and a third we obtain a quota which is the lowest 
number of votes a candidate can receive without falling to a fourth — 
the number which would be sufficient to fill one of four but not one of 
three places. 

All candidates who reach the quota on first-choice votes are declared 
elected on the first count. Votes received by a candidate in excess of the 
quota are transferred to other candidates according to the preferences in¬ 
dicated on the ballot. If this first transfer does not result in the election 
of the required number of candidates, the lowest candidate on the list is 
eliminated and his votes are transferred, and then if necessary the second 
lowest man is eliminated and following him the third lowest, and so on 
until the required number are elected. 

In addition to Cleveland, Cincinnati, and two or three smaller cities in 
the United States the Hare system is used in a number of municipalities 
in Canada and other British possessions. In continental Europe where 
proportional representation is employed in municipal elections at all 
some variant of the list system is generally used. Under this system 
various lists or tickets of candidates are put in the field, and each voter 
is allowed to vote for as many candidates as there are places to be filled, 
scattering his votes as he sees fit. The total number of votes cast is then 
divided by the number of places to be filled plus one, to secure the 
electoral quota. This quota is then applied as a divisor to the number 
of votes received by each list, and the resulting quotients give the num¬ 
ber of places to be assigned to each list. Thus if a certain list receives 
three places, the three highest candidates on the list are declared elected. 
Should there be any places unassigned after the completion of this pro¬ 
cedure, they are usually given to the ticket with the highest total vote or 
the ticket with the largest remainder. 



FORM AND FUNCTION 


147 

smaller American cities. The principal virtues claimed for 
proportional representation in councilmanic elections is that it 
guarantees a council chosen by a real majority of the voters 
and at the same time insures fair representation to minorities. 
It is claimed also that proportional representation gives the 
voter greater freedom in expressing a preference among the 
several candidates, and at the same time eliminates the con¬ 
fusion and uncertainty incident to the use of the long ballot. 
There is no doubt that the “ list ” system used in European 
cities has resulted in a more equitable distribution of council- 
manic seats among the numerous political parties which in¬ 
variably present candidates in European municipal elections; 
but it has not been subjected to the acid test of machine poli¬ 
tics, for machine politics has not yet developed to the same 
extent in European cities as in American. In American cities 
proportional representation has not yet been used long enough 
to warrant more than tentative conclusions as to the validity 
of the claims made in its behalf. It did not prevent the election 
of a machine-controlled city council in Cleveland in three suc¬ 
cessive elections; but in Cincinnati it seems to have been suc¬ 
cessful, at least temporarily, in withstanding the assaults of 
the party machines. 

We come now to the executive organization of city govern¬ 
ment. It is a significant fact that it is a well-nigh universal 
practice for the apex of the executive machinery of the city to 
be organized either as a part of or as directly subordinate to the 
city council. The only exceptions to this rule are the American 
cities having an independent mayor, or an independent mayor 
and other executive officials independent of both mayor and 
council. But, as we have noted in preceding chapters, the in¬ 
dependent executive system is being rapidly superseded in 
American cities by forms of government characterized by a 
dependent or controlled executive. In English and Prussian 
cities the executive establishment of the city is the humble 
servant of the city council, chosen by and subject to dismissal 
by the council though not an integral part of the council. In 
France, although the mayor is chosen by the council, he is en¬ 
dowed by law with many powers which he may and often must 
exercise independently of the council. But the French munici¬ 
pal executive is by no means independent of councilmanic con¬ 
trol to the same degree as the American municipal executive 
where the principle of separation of powers is applied. In 


Executive 

organization 


The inde¬ 
pendent vs. 
the subordi¬ 
nate execu'- 
tive. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Unitary vs. 
plural execu¬ 
tive organi¬ 
zation 


The relation 
of the execu¬ 
tive to the 
council 


148 

French cities there is usually a close working relationship be¬ 
tween the council and the mayor and his adjoints. The mayor 
and adjoints are members of the council as well as heads of 
the executive establishment, and are accountable to both the 
council and the central authorities. Under the commission 
plan of city government in the United States, councilmanic 
and executive organization are so completely commingled as to 
be almost undistinguishable and inseparable. Under the city 
manager plan there is a clear and sharp separation of council- 
manic and executive machinery, but the executive is completely 
subordinate to the council. 

It is interesting to observe also that multi-headed executive 
organization is just about as common as single-headed. Eng¬ 
lish and German cities have a plural executive, as have Ameri¬ 
can cities with commission government, councilmanic govern¬ 
ment, or check-and-balance government. The single-headed 
executive is found in French cities and in American cities hav¬ 
ing the manager plan or the strong mayor plan. American 
experience argues in favor of the single-headed executive, but 
European experience shows the plural executive in just as fa¬ 
vorable a light. The results obtained seem to be determined 
as much by the professional or non-professional Character of 
the civil service of the city as by the plural or unitary structure 
of the executive head. 

The relation of the executive to the council is perhaps more 
vital than the organization or structure of the executive itself. 
American cities have tried the experiment of freeing the execu¬ 
tive from councilmanic control and making it directly account¬ 
able to the electorate, but it cannot be said that the experiment 
has met with conspicuous success. It is generally recognized 
that the executive side of city government should be non¬ 
political, but such a result can scarcely be expected when the 
executive is thrown directly into politics as is the case under 
the independent executive system. On the other hand, there 
is no positive assurance that the executive organization of the 
city will not be more or less permeated by politics when the 
executive is under councilmanic seigniority. The best results 
have been attained apparently under systems which establish 
an organic separation between the council and the executive, 
making the executive subject to councilmanic control at the 
top but largely independent of councilmanic interference in its 
internal organization and routine procedure. This relationship 


FORM AND FUNCTION I49 

forces the council to concentrate its attention upon results 
rather than upon the details of administrative operation. As a 
consequence the council is more inclined to place properly 
qualified experts at the head of the executive machinery of 
the city and then let them alone so long as they produce results 
than it is when it is required to deal with the minutiae of ad¬ 
ministrative routine. 

It must be recognized, however, that no system of govern¬ 
ment ever has been or ever will be devised with such perfect 
correlation of form and function as to be immune from the 
diseases of democracy. Machine politics, when social condi¬ 
tions are such as to foster such politics, will corrode and cripple 
the best political machinery that the wits of man can conceive. 
But that is a subject for the next chapter. 


Selected References 

E. S. Griffith, Modern Development in City Government, Vol. II, 
Chaps. IX, XII. 

A. C. Hanford, Problems in Municipal Government, Chap. V. 

J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chap. IX. 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. If called in as an expert to advise a city on the drafting of a 
new charter, under what circumstances would you recommend a 
large city council and under what circumstances a small city 
council? 

2. If required to choose between the general ticket system of 
election and the ward system, what would you wish to know about 
the character of the city and the nature of its government before 
making a choice? 

3. What should proportional representation accomplish in order 
to justify its adoption as a mode of electing members of a city 
council? 

4. Does the same justification for executive independence exist 
in municipal government that many persons believe to exist in na¬ 
tional government? 


Conclusion 


Democracy 
meets un¬ 
usual diffi¬ 
culties in 
urban 
society. 


Mixed 
composition 
of urban 
society 


CHAPTER XIV 

MUNICIPAL POLITICS 

Not without reason did Thomas Jefferson deprecate and 
fear the effects of urban society upon democratic institutions. 
Paris and London he knew from first-hand contact, and his 
extensive historical studies had made him familiar with the 
stories of the great cities of antiquity. He knew full well that 
the idyllic democracy of his dreams could never flourish under 
the conditions of urban life as he understood them. Urban 
conditions impose a tremendous strain upon political institu¬ 
tions, and the force of this strain is greatly augmented for 
democratic institutions by the fact that their foundations are 
laid in the shifting sands of public opinion. To be effective as 
a governing force, public opinion must needs be coherent, posi¬ 
tive, and reasonably prudent. In a simple, rural order of so¬ 
ciety where most men are engaged in similar occupations, have 
similar interests, think alike, and have substantial equality of 
economic opportunity, public opinion may readily operate as 
a constructive and salutary force in the process of government. 
But in a complex urban society where differentiation and heter¬ 
ogeneity are the most conspicuous characteristics of the social 
structure, how can there be such a thing as unified, vigilant, 
aggressive, and intelligent public opinion? 

The population of a great city is an almost indescribable 
mosaic of variegated and often intensely competitive social 
groups — groups that are differentiated by almost every dis¬ 
similarity that can estrange human beings from one another 
and create antagonisms among members of the same society. 
There are religious groups — Catholic, Jewish, Protestant, and 
many sub-species of each; there are racial and linguistic groups, 
constituting in some modern cities a veritable Babel of tongues 
and cultures; there are economic groups, embracing nearly all 
trades, occupations, and interests known to mankind; there are 
territorial groups, attached by ties of habit and sentiment 
to some particular portion of the city’s area; and there are 

ISO 


MUNICIPAL POLITICS 


ISI 

groups of miscellaneous character, fraternal, social, coadjuvant, 
almost without end. Conflicting, overlapping; competing, co¬ 
operating; altruistic, self-centered; organized, unorganized; 
permanent, transitory — these countless particles of humanity 
are the basic ingredients of that bewilderingly complex social 
aggregate which we call urban society. Can such a staggering 
congeries, such a multiform hodge-podge of anthropoid fasci¬ 
cules be capable of self-government? That question has 
brought dismay to the mind of more than one staunch cham¬ 
pion of democracy. 

No less significant than the heterogeneous social organiza¬ 
tion of the city is the complete dichotomy of its economic 
structure. From the economic point of view there are just two 
classes of people in a great city — the few and the many — 
the few who own and control the prodigious industrial and com¬ 
mercial empire which holds sway in the life of the city, and 
the many who, though nominally free and independent citi¬ 
zens, may be likened to a vast horde of serfs, dispossessed and 
exploited by the few who are their economic overlords. It is 
no use to blink the facts; they exist and have a profound 
bearing upon the political life of the city. The proletarian 
masses, dependent for food, shelter, employment, and all other 
necessities of life upon the capricious bounty of the few, have 
but one weapon of defense, and that is their political power. 
Democracy has given the masses the ballot, and armed with 
this instrument of warfare they may, if organized and effec¬ 
tively led, strike back at their overlords. But metropolitan 
masses are seldom well organized politically, and even more 
seldom are they effectively led. 

In connection with the foregoing facts we should take into 
account the grinding exigencies of the economic struggle in 
urban society — a desperate, feverish, ceaseless state of com¬ 
petition between individuals or groups of individuals, having 
as its objects, first, the means of subsistence, second, the at¬ 
tainment of economic security, and, third, the enjoyment of 
comforts and luxuries. In a capitalistic society, such as ours, 
the persons who own or control the use of capital are the grand 
seigniors of the world of business, despots in the empire of pro¬ 
duction and distribution, able to impose their arbitrary dic¬ 
tates upon less fortunate creatures. Now urban society, by 
contrast with rural society, is characterized by an enormous 
concentration of capital in the hands of a few individuals. The 


The few 
and the 
many 


The eco¬ 
nomic 
struggle 
in urban 
society 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Competition 
is a profound 
influence 
upon urban 
political 
psychology. 


152 

city man, unless he be one of the favored few, is not born in 
possession of capital or in close access to it. He enters upon 
the economic struggle with no capital assets except his own 
brain and body. Of necessity he becomes an employee, and 
only his job stands between him and starvation. By dint of 
hard labor, rigid economy, and good fortune he may accumulate 
savings enough to emancipate himself from servitude and be¬ 
come his own boss. But the chances are all against it. The 
concentration of capital has gone so far, and the amount of 
capital required for an individual to compete on anything ap¬ 
proaching equal terms with the great corporate combinations 
of capital is so great, that the average city man is doomed to 
remain a hired man. Should he accumulate savings, his best 
expedient is to invest them in the securities of great corporate 
enterprises which may bring him prosperity but will allow him 
scarcely a whisper of authority in the management of his own 
capital. Prosperous or impoverished, therefore, the city man 
is destined to be more or less a pawn in the games played by 
the great tycoons of capital. 

Competition is a relentless master. The city man must have 
employment, and in order to get it must enter into competition 
with many others who want the same job. His ability to sur¬ 
vive in competition with other employees determines whether 
he will hold his job. A bigger income or a better job means 
of course increased competition. The occupational group to 
which he belongs, be he common laborer, skilled craftsman, 
professional man, or business man, is engaged in intense com¬ 
petition with other groups and other industries. This competi¬ 
tion further augments the pressure on the individual. Non- 
occupational groups, such as racial groups, religious groups, 
and fraternal societies, also react to the stimulus of economic 
competition. Catholics not only worship together but pull to¬ 
gether economically, get jobs for one another, favor one an¬ 
other in business, and possibly boycott groups antagonistic to 
them. In the same way Methodists, Jews, Italians, Irish, Ger¬ 
mans, Elks, Masons, Moose, and countless other groups of 
similar character respond to the pressure of competition. 
What sort of creature, then, is our average urbanite? Is he 
not a person harried by competition and driven by the eternal 
precariousness of his own prosperity and security to view things 
not so much from the standpoint of abstract principle as from 
the standpoint of their immediate effect upon him and those 


MUNICIPAL POLITICS 


153 

who ride in the same boat with him? If we keep that fact in 
mind we shall have a key to the real inwardness of urban poli¬ 
tics. Of course rural society is competitive too, but it is not 
characterized by the fierce intensity, the racing speed, the high 
pressure, and the perilous alternatives that are present in the 
city. Rustic society favors the individual, and affords him a 
chance through industry and shrewdness to achieve a certain 
degree of individual independence. 

Now let us take a look at the underlying theory of democ¬ 
racy as it relates to the basic conditions of urban society. The 
cardinal tenet of democratic dogma is the equality of man. All 
men are said to be equal, not in natural endowment, but in 
social rights, in economic privileges, and in political immuni¬ 
ties. Such equality may exist in the abstract, but as a concrete 
reality it is alien to modern urban society. City population, as 
we have observed before, is divided into the masses and the 
classes. It always has been so, and doubtless will continue to 
be so until Utopia shall be translated from the realm of dreams 
to the sphere of daily human affairs. The democratic ideal of 
substantial equality among men may be, and sometimes is, 
approximated in rural society; but never in urban society. No 
amount of political democracy can erase the gross inequalities 
which inhere in the social and economic fabric of urban life. 
The growth of cities, whether under a democratic or a non- 
democratic system of government, inevitably results in the de¬ 
velopment of a small class of specially privileged persons and 
a huge mass of underprivileged people whose lives are spent in 
close proximity to the margin of security and comfort. It 
seems to be a law of social concentration that fundamental in¬ 
equality grows in proportion to the density of population. 

A second postulate of democratic theory is that the great 
mass of men prefer good government, and, if given an oppor¬ 
tunity, will choose honesty, efficiency, and economy in pref¬ 
erence to corruption and maladministration. It may be true 
that the people are fundamentally virtuous, but there is little 
evidence to show that this native virtue exerts much influence 
upon the political reactions of the urban electorate. The kind 
of government that seems to appeal most strongly to the urban 
mind is that which provides panem et circensis, which panders 
to the emotions and seems to offer some immediate material 
benefit. The intensity and speed of urban life apparently have 
the effect of benumbing the faculties of discrimination and 


The tradi¬ 
tional dogmas 
of democracy 
examined 


1. The 
equality of 
man 


2. The civic 
virtue of 
the people 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


3. The 
capacity of 
the people 
for self- 
government 


Two req¬ 
uisites for 
effective 
self-govern¬ 
ment 


154 

shortening the range of vision. Government that is merely 
good, that carries no emotional appeal and fails to provide sop 
and sugar-candy for the urban multitude, is greeted with 
indifference. 

Another assumption of democratic doctrine is that the people 
are capable of self-government. Although they may lack edu¬ 
cation, they are presumed to be shrewd, alert, and deeply inter¬ 
ested in public affairs. There is doubtless an element of truth 
in this assumption as applied to a simple state of society, but 
it cannot be true of the miscellaneous multitudes who make up 
the population of great urban centers. The most prominent 
characteristics of the electorate in modern urban society are 
apathy, ignorance, gullibility, and prejudice. The wheel of 
life spins so rapidly, distractions are so numerous, and personal 
preoccupations are so imperative and absorbing that public 
affairs occupy little ground in urban thought. The favorite 
cartoon of Theodore Roosevelt depicted a roughhewn farmer 
sitting by the kitchen table, laboriously conning over the Presi¬ 
dent’s message by the feeble light of a kerosene lamp. Why 
did the cartoonist use a farmer rather than a city laborer or a 
fashionable flat-dweller as the central figure of his theme? 
The answer is obvious: the imagination would balk at such a 
picture. The urbanite may snatch vague fragments of political 
information from the daily press as he lurches to and fro in the 
street-cars; but the idea of a modern cliff-dweller sitting down 
to digest at leisure a bulky political document is so manifestly 
preposterous that no cartoonist would risk his reputation by 
suggesting it as a fact. The political consciousness of the 
urbanite may be reached by screaming headlines, human inter¬ 
est stories, piquant illustrations, and diluted condensations of 
speeches, but not by detailed facts. 

Effective self-government depends upon two things: (1) a 
cohesive, aggressive, unfoolable majority in the electorate, and 
(2) efficient political machinery for the translation of the will 
of the majority into definitive action. We have already ob¬ 
served that urban conditions are not congenial to the develop¬ 
ment of effective and puissant majorities; but once in a while 
such a majority does arise. The transcendent question, then, is 
whether the majority can convert its aspirations into achieve¬ 
ment. There are two fundamental processes in the business 
of self-government: the electoral process, which has to do with 
getting control of the machinery of government, and the ad- 


MUNICIPAL POLITICS 


155 

ministering process, which has to do with the operation of the 
machinery of government after it has been reduced to posses¬ 
sion. It is manifestly necessary to dominate the first of these, 
the electoral process, in order to be able to wield political au¬ 
thority; and it is just here that popular majorities encounter 
their first stumbling block. The intricacies of the electoral 
process, involving such matters as the registration of voters, 
the form and marking of the ballots, the procedure of counting, 
and the computation and recording of the results, are often so 
numerous and so little understood by the general public as to 
make it possible for unscrupulous politicians controlling the 
election machinery to nullify a popular majority by such stand¬ 
ard political tricks as fraudulent registration, personation of 
voters, repeating, stuffing the ballot box, and falsification of 
returns. So long as the electoral machinery of the city remains 
in the hands of professional politicians, and this is commonly 
the case, there is little chance for a popular majority adverse 
to the interests of those particular politicians. Such a majority 
can hardly expect to place its foot upon the threshold of 
political power, for the politicians will manipulate the 
electoral machinery so as to push it out in the first round of 
the battle. 

But assume, as occasionally happens, that ther£ is rolled up 
a popular majority of such prodigious proportions that the poli¬ 
ticians cannot possibly count it out. It sweeps into power, into 
full and undisputed possession of the machinery of government. 
Then appears the second stumbling block in the path of urban 
democracy — namely, the operation of the machinery of gov¬ 
ernment in such a way as to insure the realization of popular 
aims and objectives. To accomplish this there must be strong 
organization and skilled leadership. These, unfortunately, are 
requirements which fortuitous and ephemeral popular majori¬ 
ties seldom have. In municipal politics victory does not gen¬ 
erally abide with the many whose strength lies mainly in 
numbers, but with the few who are strong in organization, 
experience, and crafty leadership. These few — professional 
politicians, all of them — constitute the governing class of the 
city. Majorities come and go, are frequently made and un¬ 
made as political exigencies dictate, but the politicians go on 
forever running the machinery of government. One coterie of 
politicians may be swept out by a tidal wave of public opinion, 
but another quickly takes its place. Even when reformers are 


How the 
popular 
will may be 
thwarted 


Massive 
majorities 
lack the 
organization 
and leader¬ 
ship for ad¬ 
ministration. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


European 
and Ameri¬ 
can munici¬ 
pal politics 
compared 


Municipal 
government 
in Europe 
has been 
dominated 
by the few. 


156 

installed in office their reign is brief, for, not being politicians, 
they seldom know how to retain and use the power they have 
seized. 

At this point it is well to note a somewhat puzzling contrast 
between European and American municipal politics. Ameri¬ 
can observers have frequently commented upon the fact that 
European cities seemingly are not dominated by professional 
politicians. “ All over Europe the city is governed by experts 
selected without regard to party and with special training for 
the posts they occupy. Nowhere is the city the pawn of parties 
or of business interests. Municipal administration is treated 
as a technical profession which requires long training and per¬ 
manent tenure for the solution of its problems. The city is a 
great business corporation with a social as well as a political 
mission to perform.” 1 Superficially statements like the fore¬ 
going quotation are true, but it is very doubtful if its implica¬ 
tions of perfection and purity would be accepted at face value 
by European peoples themselves. 

In evaluating all such contrasts between European and 
American city government it is necessary to bear in mind that 
democracy in Europe is not always what it seems to be. Euro¬ 
pean society is and has always been characterized by extreme 
social stratiication; the classes and the masses are differen¬ 
tiated not only by economic privilege, as in the United States, 
but by social discriminations of almost every conceivable char¬ 
acter— titles, ranks, educational privileges, traditional pre¬ 
rogatives, etc. Political democracy, not yet a century old in 
Europe, has been slow to change these things. Local govern¬ 
ment has been in the hands of the classes from time immemo¬ 
rial, and this situation has not been materially altered by the 
granting of suffrage to the masses. Why so? We must remem¬ 
ber that the masses of Europe are different from the masses of 
America. For centuries the masses of Europe have looked up 
to the rich and well-born as the natural and rightful persons to 
occupy posts of authority. They have usually been denied 
educational opportunities, and such educational advantages as 
have been provided for the masses, ever since the advent of 
political democracy, have generally led along vocational lines, 
and thus have tended to perpetuate the existing social dis¬ 
criminations favoring the rich and well-born. Public office has 
been regarded as the special prerogative of gentlemen — men 
1 Howe, European Cities at Work, p. 348. 


MUNICIPAL POLITICS 


157 

of education, substance, and position — and the masses, hum¬ 
bled by centuries of social inferiority, have readily acquiesced. 

In European city government it is true, as Dr. Howe has 
stated, that the municipality has been conducted as a great busi¬ 
ness corporation, but, it is important to note, as a business cor¬ 
poration run by the classes for their own advantage primarily 
and incidentally perhaps for the benefit of the masses. Candi¬ 
dates for the city council have come largely from the upper lev¬ 
els of society, have been men of rank and social position as well 
as men of means. With such men party differences counted lit¬ 
tle in local government, for there were few party issues in local 
affairs. Graft could not tempt them greatly, because they 
were already on the top of the heap both socially and finan¬ 
cially; their major passion was for the kind of city govern¬ 
ment that would keep taxes down, for they were heavy tax¬ 
payers, and that would shift the burden of taxation as far as 
possible to the shoulders of the masses. Hence their devotion 
to municipal ownership not merely for the purpose of service 
but for the purpose of producing revenue, drawn largely from 
the pockets of the masses, that could be applied in the reduc¬ 
tion of taxation. Hence, also, their devotion to administration 
by trained experts whose skill would keep the costs of govern¬ 
ment down and extract the maximum of profit from the mu¬ 
nicipally owned utilities. The result, of course, has been clean 
and efficient government, but not necessarily government that 
has done much for the fundamental betterment of the social 
and economic position of the masses. 

In American cities conditions have been totally different. 
We did inherit from England the tradition of government by 
the rich and well-born; but it was short-lived and was demol¬ 
ished by the sweep of the Jeffersonian and Jacksonian move¬ 
ments. Americans are deeply resentful of assumed social 
superiority whatever the basis of the claim. The dynamic and 
changeable character of American society has made it impos¬ 
sible for any class to establish itself either in social preeminence 
or political power, and this has left the way open for popular 
self-government. The masses could not govern themselves, of 
course; but they could preserve the integrity of their demo¬ 
cratic ideals by refusing to commit the management of public 
affairs to the rich and the well-born. This fact has spelled op¬ 
portunity for the professional politician. The plebeian masses 
in American cities could not be overawed by rank or wealth or 


Why muni¬ 
cipal govern¬ 
ment in 
Europe has 
been specially 
interested in 
efficiency 
and economy. 


Why Ameri¬ 
can cities 
have not 
been pri¬ 
marily con¬ 
cerned about 
efficiency 
and economy. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Factors in 
the great 
game of poli¬ 
tics in Ameri¬ 
can cities 


1. The in¬ 
terests 


158 

social tradition, but they could be seduced by the insidious arts 
of the professional politician. American city government has 
become, therefore, the plaything and the pawn of professional 
politicians. They, and behind them the interests they serve, 
are the governing classes, conducting the affairs of the city in 
their own interest primarily and incidentally perhaps for the 
benefit of the masses. Curiously enough there are some faint 
indications at the present time that European cities may be 
upon the eve of a political metamorphosis which will give rise 
to government by professional politicians on the other side of 
the Atlantic. Traditional class lines have been badly shattered 
by the consequences of the war, and the growth of well- 
regimented proletarian parties is tending to dispel the idea that 
public office is only for persons of rank and substance and edu¬ 
cation. The common herd show signs of consigning the upper 
classes to indefinite political retirement; and if that should 
occur it would clear the field for the professional politician. 
Prophecy is dangerous business; but paradoxes are common in 
politics, and the rise of boss rule in European cities during the 
next three or four decades would not be an inexplicable 
paradox, 

Let us now direct our attention to the great game of politics 
as it is played in American cities. We hear a great deal of in¬ 
dignant denunciation of the rottenness of urban politics in this 
country, but there is little evidence that the basic factors un¬ 
derlying these malodorous conditions are understood even by 
persons who most vehemently deplore them. There are three 
causal factors to be taken into account in dredging the turgid 
depths of municipal politics — the interests, the people, and 
the politicians. When speaking of the interests we refer not 
only to the great corporations and business institutions which 
are sometimes described as “ big interests ” but to every inter¬ 
est, individual, collective, corporate, or otherwise, which strives 
to influence the conduct of public affairs for its own special 
benefit or advantage. The interests include organized labor, 
churches and various other religious institutions, business or¬ 
ganizations and enterprises, the devious enterprises of the un¬ 
derworld, and in fact practically every element and ingredient 
of urban life that has special concernments in public affairs. 
There may be good interests and bad interests, but they all 
have one thing in common, namely, a desire to deflect the 
course of public affairs along lines satisfactory to themselves. 


MUNICIPAL POLITICS 


159 

Some interests exert enormous pressure upon the conduct of 
government, but always in open and legitimate ways; other 
interests, less scrupulous, place their main reliance in surrepti¬ 
tious and corrupt expedients. But all interests have an axe to 
grind and wish to use the machinery of government to do their 
grinding. 

In the second corner of the triangle we find the people. The 
people possess the ballot and elect the officials who determine 2. The 
the course of government. In other words the people have the people 
key to unlock the ignition switch of the machine which the in¬ 
terests wish to drive. The attitude of the people toward the 
different interests which strive to influence the process of city 
government is confused and uncertain. Some interests are uni¬ 
versally unpopular; others meet with favor in some quarters 
and disfavor in other quarters; some interests arouse suspicion 
and prejudice; others are regarded with stolid indifference. It 
is highly probable, therefore, that no interest and no combina¬ 
tion of interests could generate enough popular enthusiasm, by 
propaganda or otherwise, to win favor with all the people or 
even with a majority of the people. That, however, is rendered 
unnecessary by the fact that the politicians, who constitute the 
third factor in this triangular alignment of forces, stand ready 
and willing, for a price, to deliver the people blindfolded and s. Thepoii- 
hog-tied into the hands of the interests. By employing the tlcians 
politicians as brokers, the interests can be more certain of the 
outcome than by dealing directly with the people. Politicians 
are skilled and experienced craftsmen in the subtle art of win¬ 
ning elections. Masters of popular psychology, they know ex¬ 
actly how to convert the ignorance, credulity, prejudices, and 
inertia of the people into majorities at the polls. They under¬ 
stand how to give the people what they want, or to make them 
think they want what they get. Moreover, the politicians ap¬ 
preciate the value of organization and know how to build up 
organizations capable of weathering the storms of politics. 

Doctors of demagoguery, they might be styled. They do not 
play the game of politics for sport alone; their talents are for 
sale, and generally to the highest bidder. When employed by 
this or that set of interests, it is the business of the politicians, 
by the magic of political prestidigitation, to please and placate 
the people and at the same time produce a government that will 
serve the interests. That is the trick which enables them to 
stay in the game. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The stakes 
of the game 


1, What the 

interests 

want 


2. What the 
people want 


160 

But what are the stakes of the game? What, for example, 
can be so ardently desired by the interests that they are ready 
to pay tribute to a gang of demagogic freebooters in order to 
obtain it? Different interests, of course, want different things. 
The public utility interests want increased rates, more favor¬ 
able franchises, and want to stop all movements for public 
ownership. The contracting and building interests want to 
obtain contracts for such operations as paving, sewer construc¬ 
tion, street cleaning, and garbage collection, and desire also to 
prevent the city from doing such work by direct labor. The 
real estate interests want street extensions, transportation de¬ 
velopments and city plan developments favorable to their hold¬ 
ings or projects, and tax measures adjusted to their advantage. 
The banking and financial interests want to serve as bond 
brokers for the city, to be custodians and depositaries of city 
funds, and to act as agents for the city in financial transactions. 
The manufacturing and mercantile interests want to sell sup¬ 
plies and equipment to the city. The insurance interests want 
to place insurance upon city property. The interests of the 
underworld—gamblers, bootleggers, prostitutes, racketeers, 
and criminals of every description—want police protection 
and laxity in law enforcement. The labor interests want to 
unionize the city service and to secure legislation favorable to 
labor. Religious and racial interests want special recognition 
in various ways and want to defeat measures which they con¬ 
ceive to be hostile to themselves. 

And the people, the great mass of everyday, garden-variety 
citizens — what are their wants? In the first place, they crave 
flattery and deference as balm to their humble souls. And they 
get what they want — in prodigious quantity and soupy con¬ 
sistency. In the second place, there are certain tangible and 
visible evidences of governmental solicitude for which the peo¬ 
ple strongly yearn — plenty of smoothly paved streets and 
boulevards for speeding the family car, parks and playgrounds 
and other recreational facilities for their diversion on Sundays 
and holidays, and monumental school buildings giving rise 
to an illusion of educational achievement. And, finally, in most 
cities nowadays the people seem to have an almost irrepressible 
desire for light wines and beer. There are a great many in¬ 
dividuals, also, whose wants are of a more personal character. 
They want jobs on the city payroll, they want help when they 
get into police court on traffic charges, they want a street light 


MUNICIPAL POLITICS 161 

on their corner, or they want this or that special perquisite 
which can be enjoyed only through the city government. 

The politicians have their wants too. The stakes of the game 
for them are power and money. Power comes from winning 
elections and controlling the machinery of government, and 
money comes from tribute levied upon the interests for services 
rendered. This compensation sometimes takes the form of out¬ 
right bribes, though bribery is not as common as it once was; 
sometimes it takes the form of generous campaign contributions 
by the favored interests, for which no accounting is made; 
sometimes it takes the form of tips on the market and oppor¬ 
tunities for enormously profitable investments; sometimes it 
takes the form of commissions and fees for ostensibly legiti¬ 
mate but superfluous and unnecessary services of a professional 
or business nature; sometimes it takes the form of salaries or 
profits from dummy corporations; sometimes it takes the form 
of winnings, guaranteed winnings, in gambling enterprises; 
sometimes it comes in the form of earnings from concerns or¬ 
ganized by politicians to do business with the interests and with 
the city government. But whatever the form the politicians 
never fail to get it. 

Now we are in a position to discuss bosses and machines. 
There is nothing mysterious about a political machine. It is 
merely a well-organized syndicate of professional politicians 
working with mechanical precision and perfection. It is built 
up around and often as an integral part of the regular and 
legitimate machinery in political parties. In every American 
city there is a Republican organization and a Democratic or¬ 
ganization. These are not necessarily political machines, but 
may be easily converted into such by the machinations of pro¬ 
fessional politicians. The party organization consists usually 
of a series of interlocking committees. At the apex of the 
structure is a city or county committee, and closely articulated 
with this committee are committees for each ward, district, and 
voting precinct. Each of these committees has charge of party 
interests and activities in the area assigned to it under the 
general oversight of the city or county committee. Each com¬ 
mittee has certain executive machinery, consisting usually of a 
chairman, a secretary, and an executive committee. The chair¬ 
man becomes the party leader within the jurisdiction of his 
committee, and is held responsible for results by his own com¬ 
mittee and by the higher committees which have authority over 


3. What the 

politicians 

want 


Bosses and 
machines 


162 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Professional 
politicians 
transform 
party organi¬ 
zation into a 
machine. 


larger areas and particularly by the general committee of the 
city or county. The chairman or executive head of the general 
committee naturally is regarded as the general leader of the 
party for the whole city or county. The members of these are 
chosen, in theory at least, by the rank and file of the party 
voting in direct primary elections or acting through party 
caucuses and conventions. 

The professional politician naturally and inevitably seeks to 
transform the simple party organization described above into 
a well-lubricated machine dominated by a boss and a ring of 
political gangsters. The first step is to induce the party mem¬ 
bers who cast their ballots in the direct primaries or attend the 
caucuses and conventions of the party to support machine can¬ 
didates for the various party committees. This is usually ac¬ 
complished without difficulty, first, because of the indifference 
of the great mass of voters, and, second, because of the inten¬ 
sive cultivation of certain portions of the electorate by the 
adherents of the machine. Most voters, even though they be 
ardent partisans, do not care enough about the inner workings 
of the party system to take much interest in the composition 
of party committees. Such drab details are not for them. 
They see and hear little of party committees, know very little 
of their functions, and do not particularly care who the mem¬ 
bers are. If they vote in the primaries, they are very likely 
to vote for the different candidates for public office and over¬ 
look the candidates for the different party committees. And 
if the party committees are chosen by caucuses or conventions, 
the average party member does not care enough about it to 
seek membership in these bodies. Furthermore, membership 
on party committees means so little in the way of public honor 
and distinction that a person ordinarily does not become a 
candidate for party committeeman for altruistic reasons alone. 
The upshot of the business is that committee memberships 
very commonly go by default to those who seek them for selfish 
reasons. But machine politicians take no chances on the ca¬ 
prices of the electorate. Their strategy is to attach to them¬ 
selves as loyal henchmen enough party members in each voting 
area to insure their control of the primaries, caucuses, or con¬ 
ventions by which the committees are chosen. Social clubs 
are organized; entertainments, picnics, excursions, and bar¬ 
becues are given; jobs are obtained or promised for active 
workers; gratuities, charities, and favors are dispensed with a 


MUNICIPAL POLITICS 


163 

large hand; money is sometimes judiciously distributed where 
it will do the most good; and where the exigency seems to re¬ 
quire it, coercion is not eschewed. The machine candidates 
for places on the party committees are thus insured the sup¬ 
port of an instructed block of voters who do as they are told 
because of gratitude or fear, while the independent candidates, 
if any, can rely only upon the average voter’s interest in party 
affairs. 

So the machine candidates win, nine times out of ten, and 
then the rest is easy. Installing themselves and their hench¬ 
men in control of the system of party committees, the machine 
politicians are in a position to take the steering wheel in their 
own hands and guide the party craft as they will. Their first 
concern is for nominations for office. The machine slate must 
be the party slate. If nominations are made by caucuses or 
conventions, it is a fairly simple matter for the machine to foist 
its slate upon the party. Controlling the governing machinery 
of the party — the party committees — the machine is largely 
able to determine the conditions under which caucuses and con¬ 
ventions shall meet and transact their business. Everything 
possible is done to favor the machine and to disconcert and di¬ 
vide its opponents. The dice are loaded against non-machine 
candidates from start to finish, and it is not often that the 
machine slate can be broken. If, however, the nominations 
are made by the direct primary system, the tactics of the ma¬ 
chine must be varied somewhat. Its control of the party 
machinery gives it great tactical advantages. It has an organi¬ 
zation intact and ready for immediate action, whereas the inde¬ 
pendent forces must build a new organization from the ground 
up. It has access to campaign funds that the independents 
cannot touch. It can take advantage of technicalities in the 
primary system, because the law usually accords certain pre¬ 
rogatives to the official committees of the party. Possessing 
these and other advantages, the machine, by concentrating its 
strength upon one candidate for each office and scattering the 
voting power of the opposition among several independent can¬ 
didacies, by its control of publicity, by its well-filled treasury, 
and by its manipulation of the election machinery, can gener¬ 
ally nominate its slate in the primaries. 

The general election at which members of the city council 
and other city officials are chosen is not infrequently a fight be¬ 
tween two slates of machine candidates. It makes little differ- 


How the 
machine 
runs the 
party and 
nominates 
its men 


Party 

machines in 
the regular 
elections 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The r61e of 
the boss 


164 

ence which wins; the city is doomed to have machine govern¬ 
ment, and there is not much choice between the Republican 
variety and the Democratic variety. But it sometimes happens 
that only one of the two parties is machine controlled — it is 
invariably the party that is normally in the majority •— and 
that the fight is between the machine and the combined forces 
of the opposing party and the independents. Such an align¬ 
ment would be fatal for the machine were it not that three 
things count heavily in its favor. The first is the regular party 
vote. If the machine party is the one to which a majority of 
the voters of the city normally belong, party regularity will 
save the machine from defeat in nine cases out of ten. Most 
voters are habitual members of one party or the other, and, 
having formed the habit of allegiance to the standard of a party, 
will regularly cast their votes for the ticket of that party. 
Nothing short of sensational corruption or a putrid sex scandal 
will shake them loose from their traditional allegiance. And 
clever machine politicians generally avoid any such contre¬ 
temps. The second circumstance favoring the machine is the 
nursed vote. This is the solid block of votes which the ma¬ 
chine has built up in each voting precinct by means of jobs, 
gratuities, perquisites, and favors. This vote never fails to go 
to the polls and never fails to vote the ticket straight. It is 
strong enough to offset any defections to the opposition, and 
sometimes outnumbers the combined forces of the opposition. 
The third and final fact that redounds to the advantage of the 
machine is the inertia and apathy of the electorate. Despite 
the continuous uproar in our cities about the iniquities of ma¬ 
chine politics, fully half of the qualified voters rarely go to the 
polls. The tumult and shouting of municipal politics make no 
more impression upon them than the roar of the elevated and 
the rumble of the subway. It is all a part of the incessant 
hubbub of city life. But the controlled vote of the machine 
never fails to appear at the polls in full strength; that is what 
it is paid for. As a result, therefore, of the combined effect of 
the three circumstances just set forth, a strong and well- 
organized party machine has better than a fifty-fifty chance to 
carry its slate to victory whatever the nature of the opposition. 

Nothing has been said thus far about the boss, but he is a 
necessary and integral part of the machine. No organization 
can operate efficiently without a head, a powerful and authori¬ 
tative chief. This function the boss performs in the machine. 


MUNICIPAL POLITICS 165 

He is usually a person of great native shrewdness, who knows 
how to handle men. By dint of superiority in the talents which 
count in politics, he has made himself the acknowledged leader 
of the group of politicians who constitute the main cogs of the 
machine. He may be chairman of the central executive com¬ 
mittee or hold some other official post in the party organiza¬ 
tion, or he may prefer, as did the late Charles F. Murphy of 
Tammany Hall, to hold no official place either in the city gov¬ 
ernment or the party organization. The boss is not boss be¬ 
cause of the titles he holds or the positions he occupies, but 
because he holds sway over the members of the machine by 
force of character, soundness of judgment, resourcefulness, 
knowledge of human nature, and experience in the arts of poli¬ 
tics. He may run the machine like a mediaeval despot, or he 
may be an “ easy boss,” gaining his ends through cleverness, 
conciliation, and diplomacy. A capable boss with a well- 
regimented machine at his back is a power to be reckoned with 
in every political campaign; like the commander of a well- 
drilled regular army, he can rout popular levies greatly out¬ 
numbering his own trained legionaries, because he has organ¬ 
ized force at his disposal. 

Boss rule rests, as we have seen, upon deep foundations. 
The cupidity and unscrupulousness of the interests, the inertia, 
stupidity, and disorganization of the people, and the avarice 
and immorality of the politicians — these, in brief, are the 
causal factors in machine politics. It is a curious fact in Amer¬ 
ican society (doubtless also in European society) that persons 
of highest respectability, persons who pride themselves upon 
the honor and probity of their dealings with their fellow men 
— moralists, churchmen, uplifters — do not allow their moral 
scruples to interfere with the conduct of their corporate inter¬ 
ests. When it comes to furthering the interests of public util¬ 
ity companies, contracting firms, or other big business con¬ 
cerns in which they have holdings, these persons do not shrink 
from traffic with the boss and the machine any more than the 
lowest knaves of the community. Is it any worse for a boot¬ 
legger to bribe a policeman than for a bank president or a 
public utility magnate to make a fat contribution to the boss’s 
campaign fund? When America finds the right answer to that 
question, she will also find a solution for the problem of machine 
politics. 

It is also true that the people themselves, by reason of their 


The causal 
factors of 
boss rule 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The people 
make boss- 
ism possible. 


The con¬ 
ditions which 
must be 
changed in 
order to 
stamp out 
bossism 


166 

susceptibility to the cozenage of patronage, perquisites, and 
favors, are to a large extent the authors of their own political 
troubles. But there is some excuse for this weakness in the 
humble and lowly denizens of our vast urban jungles. “ Con¬ 
sider the standpoint of the voter. He knows, perhaps, that it 
is better in the abstract for the city to build cheaply, to have 
capable officials, and to rid itself of criminals. However, in 
concrete cases he agrees with the politician that it is better to 
give Terry a fat contract, to find a city job for Angelo, and to 
see that Jimmie isn’t sent to jail. Abstractly he admits that 
it might be better to repudiate Tammany. Concretely he is 
faced with a more difficult choice, and one which might cause 
a wiser man to hesitate. He must choose, that is, between in¬ 
efficient and frequently dishonest government by his own peo¬ 
ple, and, on the other hand, relatively efficient administration 
by men he regards as foreigners.” 2 

A great deal has been said and written about the eradication 
of machine politics in American cities, but very little has been 
done to bring about this much-desired consummation. It used 
to be thought that bosses, rings, and machines could be stamped 
out by means of drastic political reforms, but we have seen 
enough of political reform during the past half-century to be 
no longer deceived by this will-o’-the-wisp theory. The roots 
of the boss system are sunk deep into the subsoil of our social 
and economic life, and draw their sustenance from sources so 
far beneath the surface that it will take deep grubbing in the 
field of social and economic readjustment to kill them out. So 
long as business interests — respectable business interests — 
persist in their present Machiavelian attitude toward politics; 
so long as the masses can hope for no greater concrete benefits 
from city government than jobs, perquisites, and public im¬ 
provements; so long as the people are so divided by racial, 
religious, or local prejudices as to place these special interests 
above general welfare; and so long as the profession of politics 
is dominated by persons who prefer to take the cash and let 
the credit go — so long as these conditions continue, bosses 
and machines will be likely to flourish. 

The distinguished career of Alfred E. Smith and the alleged 
reformation of the Tammany machine of New York have given 
birth to a vast amount of speculative discussion as to the pos¬ 
sibility of the purification and regeneration of political ma- 

2 Malcolm Cowley, The Peasants of New York, New Republic, June 6, 
1928. 


MUNICIPAL POLITICS 167 

chines by internal action. So broad-minded has critical opin¬ 
ion become on this subject that one of the monthly magazines 
which claims to appeal only to the civilized minority of the 
American public has lately published an article depicting the 
the late Charles F. Murphy of Tammany fame as a Puritan 
in disguise, a man who took only “ honest graft ” and labored 
indefatigably for the moral and material advancement of the 
people of New York. It is a pretty conceit, and perhaps not 
wholly fanciful. It is certainly not impossible, and not wholly 
improbable, that circumstances might occasionally conspire to 
bring forth machine politicians of high capacity for popular 
leadership and of sincere devotion to popular welfare as un¬ 
derstood by them. Such leaders, if and when they arise, may 
be able partly and temporarily to transform a political machine 
from a thing of evil ways into an instrument of beneficence and 
progress. But the student of political science, knowing the 
fundamental bases of machine politics, though he may indulge 
the hope, will certainly not entertain the belief that such ref¬ 
ormations can outlast the lives of the particular leaders by 
whose personalities they were evoked. 

Selected References 

W. Anderson, American City Government, Chaps. VII, VIII, X, 
XI. 

E. S. Griffith, Modern Development in City Government, Vol. II, 
Chap. XII. 

C. C. Maxey, Readings in Municipal Government, Chap. IV. 

W. B. Munro, Government of American Cities (4th ed.), Chaps. 
VII, VIII, IX, XI, XII, XIII. 

W. B. Munro, The Government of European Cities, Chaps. IV, V, 

XIII, XIV, XX, XXI. 

T. H. Reed, Municipal Government in the United States, Chap. 

XIV. 

J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chaps. XII, 
XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII. 

Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Can a political machine be established and maintained with¬ 
out the assent, or at least the passive acquiescence, of the people? 

2. Why has it been easier to build up political machines in Ameri¬ 
can cities than in European cities? 

3. If Tammany, or any other great urban political machine, could 
be abolished, would it not be promptly succeeded by another politi¬ 
cal machine of a different name but much the same character? 


The possi¬ 
bility of in¬ 
ternal 

regeneration 
of political 
machines 


CHAPTER XV 

METROPOLITAN GOVERNMENT 


Political 
progress and 
social prog¬ 
ress do not 
keep step. 


The origin of 
metropolitan 
disintegration 


Municipal corporations are fashioned by the factitious hand 
of government, but cities grow in response to the pressure of 
social and economic forces. Men build cities in accordance 
with the requirements of commerce and industry, but, unfor¬ 
tunately, they do not provide political machinery consonant 
with the needs of cities for governmental services. Political 
progress displays a tendency to lag behind social and economic 
progress, and in great cities this lag often develops into a case 
of retardation with pathological consequences. When a city 
expands and develops with such prodigious strides as to out¬ 
run the proper expansion and development of its political ma¬ 
chinery, there ensues a condition of enfeeblement and impotence 
in the political processes of urban life which produces a most 
deleterious reaction upon the social and economic well-being of 
the whole urban community. This condition is to be found 
today in nearly every great metropolitan center. 

How have these maladjustments come about? In every city 
the story is much the same. At some distant time in the past, 
when the city was but a fraction of its present size, a munici¬ 
pal corporation was established to facilitate the conduct of 
local government in the city. Certain definite boundaries were 
assigned to this body corporate, and within those boundaries it 
was empowered to carry on local government. The boundaries 
of the corporation at the time they were fixed probably included 
all of the built-up area and a considerable slice of the adjoin¬ 
ing rural territory. The men of that day did not dream that 
the city would grow beyond those boundaries and become a 
vast metropolitan center numbering hundreds of thousands and 
even millions of souls. But time has a way of disregarding the 
plans of men. Caught up in the flow of titanic social and 
economic forces, the little city became a mammoth metropolis. 
The corporate boundaries were quickly filled up, and popula¬ 
tion spread all over the adjacent countryside. Spasmodic ef- 

168 


METROPOLITAN GOVERNMENT 


169 


forts were made to extend the boundaries of the corporation 
to keep pace with the growth of the city, but the mills of gov¬ 
ernment grind so slowly that these were never more than partly 
successful. Outside the boundaries of the original corporation 
suburban municipalities sprang up in great profusion. These 
satellites grew and multiplied until the metropolitan area, 
though increasingly unified from the standpoint of commerce 
and industry and social life, evolved into an impenetrable 
morass of dissevered and uncoordinated agencies of local gov¬ 
ernment. And as a general rule further confusion was added 
to this already staggering jumble by the creation of many spe¬ 
cial agencies of government to operate throughout the metro¬ 
politan area, and by the survival of the county as an inde¬ 
pendent unit of government. 

In some such way as this have been begotten the bewildering 
multiplicity of political corporalities which are to be found to¬ 
day in nearly every great metropolitan center. New York with 
her five boroughs, five counties, her highly complex federal 
organization, and her scores of contingent but unannexed sub¬ 
urban municipalities; Chicago with upwards of 390 distinct 
units of local government in the metropolitan zone, including 
cities, counties, towns, villages, school districts, sanitary dis¬ 
tricts, park districts, library districts, and forest preserve dis¬ 
tricts; Boston with fourteen cities, twenty-six towns, five 
counties, and five state commissions functioning within the 
metropolitan area; Detroit with one county, five cities, twelve 
villages, twenty-one townships, and one hundred and twenty- 
one school districts in the metropolitan area; Los Angeles with 
one county, thirty-eight municipalities, one hundred eighty- 
seven school districts, thirty-four lighting districts, thirty-three 
road districts, and two protection districts in the metropolitan 
region — these are typical examples of the sort of political dis¬ 
integration which characterizes almost every big metropolitan 
center of modern times. London, Paris, Berlin, Brussells, and 
other great European cities are afflicted with the same ailment, 
although, as will be noted later, efforts have been made recently 
in some of the metropolitan centers of Europe to effect a cure 
by means of consolidation or federal unification. 

What are the consequences of chaotic disunity in the gov¬ 
ernmental structure of metropolitan communities? To answer 
this question it is necessary only to recall that the most im¬ 
portant problems to which the instrumentalities of government 


Examples of 
metropolitan 
disunity 


The conse¬ 
quences of 
metropoli¬ 
tan disunity 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


No unity of 
policy or ad¬ 
ministration 


170 

must be addressed in a metropolitan center are those which 
should of right be dealt with on a broad regional basis — prob¬ 
lems such as sanitation, drainage, public health, water supply, 
parks, police administration, law enforcement, city planning 
(including zoning), traffic regulation, public utilities, and per¬ 
haps even education. Bacteria have scant respect for munici¬ 
pal boundaries. Criminals revel in the jurisdictional complexi¬ 
ties that arise in metropolitan centers. The sources of water 
supply do not conform to the political segmentation of the 
metropolitan area, and neither do the natural and necessary 
channels for drainage and sewage disposal. The areas avail¬ 
able for parks and other recreational facilities do not corre¬ 
spond with the distribution of population among the compo¬ 
nent political units of the metropolitan region. Transportation 
is a problem that covers the whole metropolitan district, for the 
movements of population follow the courses of commerce and 
industry and not the lines of political partition. City planning 
is a regional problem. It is obviously impossible to formulate 
and carry out a practicable and intelligent plan for the physical 
development of the metropolitan area on a segmentary basis, 
for the forces which must be controlled by the city plan are 
not local but regional forces. 

The most unfortunate thing, therefore, about political dis¬ 
integration is the fact that it leads to friction, dissension, and 
impotence, where there should be unity, coordination, and vigor 
in coping with the great problems of urban life. Instead of one 
policy, one program, and one system of administration, there 
are several. Lack of uniformity means laxity and futility. Di¬ 
vergences in policy and rigidity of law enforcement enable the 
vice interests to use the lax municipalities as bases of opera¬ 
tions from which to prey upon those which have adopted a 
sterner policy. Divergences in the traffic codes of the contigu¬ 
ous municipalities of the metropolitan area breed bewilder¬ 
ment among automobile drivers and multiply accidents. Ar¬ 
terial thoroughfares to relieve traffic congestion cannot be put 
through without diplomatic and legal complications that would 
be ridiculous in an international conclave. A dozen or more 
different regulating authorities and as many different franchises 
must be harmonized before a unified street railway system ca¬ 
pable of serving the needs of the whole metropolitan area can 
be worked out. Examples of this sort might be multiplied 
almost without limit. Every major problem of local self- 


METROPOLITAN GOVERNMENT 


171 

government is a community problem, a metropolitan problem, 
and not a problem confined to a single political unit of the 
metropolitan region. 

Political disunity has other serious aspects also. It tends, 
for one thing, to becloud the essential differences between 
things which are of regional importance and those which have 
only neighborhood significance. It is proper, and in fact highly 
desirable, that neighborhood affairs should be handled by 
neighborhood action and regional affairs by regional action. 
Under the chaotic political organization prevailing in most of 
our metropolitan centers no such discrimination is possible. 
The same machinery and the same governmental processes that 
are employed in dealing with such problems as public utility 
regulation or public health are also used to determine whether 
a householder may keep chickens in his back yard. In fact 
matters of petty local concern oftentimes clog the channels of 
government so badly that it is difficult to transact business of 
major importance. Another thing that results from political 
disunity is serious financial dilemmas. The financial capacity 
of the different units of the metropolitan community is seldom 
equal. Great wealth and high property values are found in the 
sections that are built up and improved, whereas the greatest 
need for financial resources is in the residential districts in¬ 
habited by the poorer classes of people. The lack of political 
unity throughout the metropolitan area makes it impossible to 
equalize financial burdens and thus to utilize the financial re¬ 
sources of the community to the greatest advantage. Still an¬ 
other unfortunate consequence of political disunity is the 
handicap it imposes upon the natural and proper development 
of trade and industry. Varying and improperly fluctuating tax 
rates, disjointed and disrelated city planning, incongruous devi¬ 
ations in the regulation of public utilities, the unnecessary 
multiplication of official red tape, and similar consequences of 
political disintegration — all these constitute impediments to 
the sound progress of business and add to the overhead cost of 
doing business in the city. Many cases are on record where 
important commercial and industrial concerns have either 
moved away from or refused to locate in a community because 
of unfavorable conditions resulting directly from the chaotic 
structure of its political machinery. 

Needless to say, the political life of a metropolitan commu¬ 
nity is also badly blighted through the existence of many sepa- 


No proper 
distinction 
between re¬ 
gional and 
purely local 
matters 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Political de¬ 
moralization 


Movements 
for political 
unification 


172 

rate units of local government. Large property owners, pros¬ 
perous business and professional people, leaders in all lines of 
endeavor tend to move into the select residential suburbs and 
commute to their places of work down town. By so doing they 
lose their votes in that portion of the metropolitan district 
where their greatest interests are, and are excluded from all 
direct participation in public affairs outside the boundaries of 
their own suburbs. The central parts — major commercial and 
industrial portions — of the metropolitan community are thus 
abandoned to the obscure and instable masses whose leader¬ 
ship gravitates into the hands of machine politicians, while the 
smug suburban municipalities where the optimates dwell, hav¬ 
ing few political issues of dramatic prominence, excite little in¬ 
terest in public affairs. As a consequence civic consciousness 
sinks about as low among the fortunate and educated classes 
as among the less favored elements of society. The metropoli¬ 
tan community as a whole is denied the constructive and in¬ 
telligent leadership that it needs, and the political arena, save 
for a few snobbish enclaves, is thrown wide open to professional 
politicians. 

The evils incident to metropolitan disintegration have not 
remained unnoticed or uncombatted. Movements designed to 
achieve unification, or at least some degree of unification, have 
been launched in practically every great urban center, and some 
of these have met with a certain measure of success. The tac¬ 
tics pursued have naturally varied widely at different times and 
places. In some instances it has been possible to accomplish 
more through voluntary cooperation on the part of commercial 
and civic agencies, or at times of governmental agencies, than 
in any other way. Such cooperation does not, of course, pro¬ 
duce political unity, but it does provide a means of getting 
around some of the difficulties of disunity. Chambers of com¬ 
merce, citizens’ associations, and like organizations, can some¬ 
times engender public sentiment that will lead to the adoption 
of common policies throughout the metropolitan area, and can 
sometimes mediate between clashing local authorities. Beyond 
this, however, they are seldom able to accomplish much; they 
have no power over the execution of policies and are unable to 
fuse the disconnected political machinery of the metropolis 
into a harmonious whole. 

The simplest and commonest device for the accomplishment 
of political unification is the annexation or consolidation of 


METROPOLITAN GOVERNMENT 


173 


contiguous municipalities. Great triumphs have been achieved 
by means of this expedient, and likewise great failures. By 
means of annexation and consolidation a greater Philadelphia 
was created in 1854 by extending the boundaries and jurisdic¬ 
tion of the city of Philadelphia to include all the suburban gov¬ 
ernmental units in Philadelphia County. This was done by a 
legislative enactment which enabled Philadelphia to absorb her 
outlying municipalities without their sanction or consent. In 
practically the same way the city of Greater New York was 
formed in 1898 by the consolidation of Brooklyn and a number 
of other satellite municipalities and also certain contiguous 
rural areas with the city of New York. By legislative enable¬ 
ment also the city of Pittsburgh in 1906 annexed the city of 
Allegheny and several other adjacent municipalities. Several 
other cities, notably Chicago and Los Angeles, have greatly 
extended their boundaries by annexation, though more gradu¬ 
ally than in the cases cited and usually without special as¬ 
sistance from the state legislature. 

But the process of annexation is attended by difficulties that 
militate against success. In most states the law does not per¬ 
mit the annexation of one municipality by another without the 
consent of the governing authorities or the electorate, or both, 
of the municipality annexed. Nor may this rule be abrogated 
by special legislative enactment is most states, because there 
are constitutional restrictions upon special legislation affecting 
cities. To surmount local pride and local politics and induce 
a municipality to consent to its own extinction is one of the 
most difficult things that statecraft can undertake. It is only 
when the absorbing municipality has unusual advantages to 
offer, such as the assumption of debts or the reduction of taxes, 
or is able to exert coercive pressure through its control of 
municipal necessities, such as water supply or drainage facili¬ 
ties, that the subjects of the annexation are likely to accept it 
of their own volition. Unorganized rural territory, on the other 
hand, is usually not difficult to annex, and most of the terri¬ 
torial accretions which American cities have achieved through 
annexation have been of this character. In Europe, however, 
municipal annexation, meaning the annexation of one munici¬ 
pality to another, does not involve the difficulties that are en¬ 
countered in the United States, the explanation of this being 
found in the fact that in Europe the power of annexation usu¬ 
ally resides with the central authorities rather than with the 


Annexation 


Difficulties 
with annexa¬ 
tion 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The city- 

county 

problem 


1. In Europe 


2. In the 

United 

States 


174 

municipalities affected. For that reason annexation has been 
much more freely used in Europe than in this country. 

One of the most serious obstacles to governmental simplifi¬ 
cation in American metropolitan communities is the overlap¬ 
ping jurisdiction of city and county government. In Great 
Britain this difficulty is avoided by the simple provision in the 
municipal code to the effect that any municipal borough with 
a population of 50,000 or more may be made a county borough 
by order, after due inquiry, of the Ministry of Health. Upon 
becoming a county borough the municipality is detached from 
the county of which it was formerly a part and is set up as a 
separate county with a combined city and county government. 
In France and Germany the problem does not exist, because 
there is no overlapping of rural and urban units of local 
government. 

In the United States the county, though it originated as an 
administrative district of the central government, very early 
came to be an agency of local government as well. One might 
suppose that the county would surrender its functions of local 
government within the boundaries of incorporated municipali¬ 
ties as they were established within its borders, but such has 
not been the case. The county sheriff, the county coroner, the 
county engineer, and practically all the other county officials 
have continued to exercise their functions in the incorporated 
as well as in the unincorporated areas of the county. Dupli¬ 
cations of function ensued, to be sure, but when cities were 
small and the urban area inconsiderable as compared with the 
rural area, frequent and serious collisions did not occur. But 
the growth and multiplication of cities and the consequent 
spreading of the urban area over the major part of the county, 
and in some cases over more than one county, have changed all 
this. Where this has occurred, county government has become 
almost purely urban government, and a sort of supernumerary 
urban government at that. Clashes and controversies between 
county and city officials become inevitable under such condi¬ 
tions. Nothing is more common in the urban centers of the 
United States today than the spectacle of county and city 
officials arrayed against one another in bitter antagonism, in¬ 
dulging in mutual recriminations, and solemnly “ passing the 
buck ” back and forth. The sheriff’s office and the police de¬ 
partment, the county engineer and the public works depart¬ 
ment of the city, the county health officials and the city health 


METROPOLITAN GOVERNMENT 


175 

department, the financial officers of the county and the finan¬ 
cial officers of the city, as well as various other county and city 
officials that might be mentioned, have coincident duties and 
co: -tacts which frequently bring them to swords’ points. Not 
only does this result in halting and inefficient government, but 
it involves unnecessary duplications of official personnel that 
furnish sustenance to a vast horde of political spoilsmen. 

These conditions have brought the problem of city-county 
consolidation to the fore as one of the major questions in the 
realm of local government. Several American cities have suc¬ 
ceeded in effecting a merger of city and county government, 
and the question is being agitated in many others. The first 
notable instance of city-county unification in America occurred 
in 1851 when the city of Baltimore was detached from the 
rural portions of Baltimore County and set up as a separate 
county. The consolidation of political machinery in this case 
did not go as far as might have been desired, but the county 
and city governments were at least made identical in area and 
population. The next case of city-county consolidation was 
that of San Francisco in 1856. This was a real consolidation. 
The act of consolidation abolished the former county of San 
Francisco, repealed the charter of the city, and erected a new 
municipal corporation styled “ The City and County of San 
Francisco.” The new corporation performed the functions of 
both city and county government, but did not retain the full 
quota of city and county officials. Certain duplications were 
allowed to remain, but the merger of offices and departments 
went far enough to produce immediate and extensive economies 
in the operating cost of local government. The next conspicu¬ 
ous case of city and county unification was in St. Louis. In 
1876 a provision was inserted in the proposed new constitution 
of the state of Missouri providing for the extension of the 
boundaries of the city of St. Louis, for the separation of the city 
of St. Louis from the county of the same name, and for the 
reorganization of both the city and the residue of the county. 
The proposed constitution was adopted by the voters of the 
state, and the city-county merger promptly took effect. A 
combined city-and-county government was established in the 
urban area of St. Louis, and all county offices were abolished 
except those of sheriff, coroner, and public administrator. The 
fourth outstanding case of city-county consolidation occurred 
in Denver. By constitutional amendment in 1902 the city 


City-county 

consolidation 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Difficulties 
in city- 
county 
consolidation 


Special 

metropolitan 

districts 


176 

of Denver was detached from the county of Arapahoe; the 
boundaries of the city were by the same measure extended to 
embrace large suburban areas, and the city with these enlarged 
limits was transformed into a new body politic known as “ The 
City and County of Denver.” Hostile litigation tied the mat¬ 
ter up in the courts until 1911, but since that time Denver 
has enjoyed the advantages of city-county unification. 

City-county consolidation is not an easy thing to accomplish 
in the United States. The legal basis of county government 
generally is such that some modification of the state constitu¬ 
tion is necessary to effect any material changes in the functions, 
organization, and boundaries of counties. And even where 
there are no constitutional barriers, it is generally necessary to 
secure an enabling act from the state legislature before the 
localities concerned can proceed with consolidation. These 
obstacles serve as intrenchments for the opponents of consoli¬ 
dation, and not infrequently have the effect of blocking all con¬ 
solidation movements in their incipiency. Professor Reed 1 
has expressed some doubt as to the desirability of city-county 
consolidation in all cases. His point is that the rural areas 
not included in the consolidated government are unable to pro¬ 
vide the governmental services required by their suburban po¬ 
sition when excluded from the county of which the great city 
is a part. This contention is not without force, but it argues 
more strongly for a complete revamping of local government 
units in metropolitan regions than for the perpetuation of 
the absurd and extravagant duplication of city and county 
government. 

Another expedient which has been largely used to overcome 
the handicaps of metropolitan dismemberment is the creation 
of special metropolitan districts for the /handling of one partic¬ 
ular function or group of functions throughout the entire metro¬ 
politan area. The need for united and comprehensive action 
is more acute and therefore more apparent in such immediately 
vital affairs as water supply, sanitation, sewerage, and public 
health administration than it is in connection with the less ob¬ 
viously metropolitan concerns. Therefore it is possible often¬ 
times to generate sentiment favorable to unified metropolitan 
organization for the discharge of certain special functions of 
government when it would not be possible to make any progress 
at all in the direction of general unification. Numerous ex- 
1 Reed, Municipal Government in the United States, pp. 365-366. 


METROPOLITAN GOVERNMENT 177 

amples may be cited. The metropolitan district has been a 
favorite device for securing unified local government in Eng¬ 
land. In the metropolitan area of Greater London we find the 
Metropolitan Water District, the Metropolitan Commission of 
Sewers, the Metropolitan Police District, the Metropolitan 
Board of Works, the Metropolitan Board of Parks, and the 
London Electricity Supply Area. Metropolitan organization 
of similar character may be found in practically every large 
urban area in the United States. Among the more conspicuous 
examples are the Port Authority of New York, which was cre¬ 
ated by a treaty between the states of New Jersey and New 
York, and has jurisdiction over the development, coordination, 
and operation of port facilities appurtenant to New York, 
Hoboken, Jersey City, and Newark; the Sanitary District of 
Chicago, which has the duty of constructing and maintaining 
the sewerage system of the Chicago metropolitan area, as well 
as many related functions; the Los Angeles Sanitary District, 
which is responsible for the planning, construction, and opera¬ 
tion of sewers in the Los Angeles metropolitan region; the 
South Park Commission, which has to do with the provision 
and maintenance of parks and boulevards for a large area in¬ 
cluding portions of Cook County and Chicago; the Rhode 
Island Park Commission, which is responsible for acquiring 
and maintaining parks for eleven cities and villages in Rhode 
Island; the Metropolitan District Commission, which deals with 
sewerage, parks, water supply, and city planning for the metro¬ 
politan area of Boston. 

Practically all such functional districts have been created by 
special enactment of the state, provincial, or national legisla¬ 
ture, and in most cases the population affected has had no 
direct voice in the matter by way of referendum. The govern¬ 
ing authorities of these districts consist usually of a board or 
commission whose members are appointed either by the central 
authorities or by designated local authorities. In a few ex¬ 
ceptional cases the members of these metropolitan boards are 
elected by the voters of the district. It is the common practice 
also to render these special districts financially independent of 
the municipal authorities of the metropolitan area by giving 
them special taxing and borrowing powers and in some in¬ 
stances by allocating to them the earnings of the services 
operated by them. 

The special metropolitan district has proved to be a device 


How special 
districts are 
created and 
organized. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


178 


The value of 
metropolitan 
districts 


Federal 
organization 
in the metro¬ 
politan area 


1. Greater 
New York 


of great value. More has actually been accomplished in the 
way of unified and efficient metropolitan administration by this 
means than by any other. It concentrates attention upon one 
problem, and provides machinery for dealing with that single 
problem in a most effective manner. Nevertheless the tend¬ 
ency to multiply special districts is from some points of view 
to be deplored. The problem of metropolitan dismemberment 
cannot be solved by special districts. To meet all the needs 
of the metropolitan community would require so large a num¬ 
ber of special districts that in the end confusion and disunity 
would be as bad as ever or worse. Each additional special dis¬ 
trict adds further complications to the already top-heavy and 
labyrinthine structure of metropolitan government, and, unless 
the local government agencies of the metropolitan region can 
be entirely displaced by special districts and these fused in 
some way into a harmonious whole, there is little hope of sub¬ 
stantial integration of metropolitan political processes from 
this quarter. 

The most attractive idea, from a purely theoretical stand¬ 
point at least, for promoting metropolitan unification is the 
proposal that metropolitan government be organized on a fed¬ 
eral basis. Not only has this plan been extravagantly admired, 
but several cities, notably New York, Berlin, and London, have 
attempted with more or less fidelity to put it into operation. 
The New York system can scarcely be described as a thorough¬ 
going federal plan, but it has some federal characteristics. The 
city of Greater New York, as established in 1898, is divided 
into five boroughs — Manhattan, Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens, 
and Richmond. There are no borough councils, nor do the 
boroughs possess any independent powers of policy determina¬ 
tion. Each borough, however, elects a borough president who 
has charge of certain administrative functions which have been 
reserved to the boroughs. These include the construction and 
repair of streets and sewers, the care of public buildings, the 
enforcement of building regulations, the control of various in¬ 
cidental matters relating to streets and buildings, and, in the 
cases of the boroughs of Richmond and Queens only, the 
cleaning of streets. The five borough presidents together with 
the mayor, the president of the board of aldermen, and the 
comptroller, constitute the board of estimate and apportion¬ 
ment, which, though not originally so designed, has become 
the upper and dominant branch of the municipal legislature. 


METROPOLITAN GOVERNMENT 


179 

The distribution of voting power in the board of estimate and 
apportionment recognizes the five boroughs as representative 
districts entitled as such to a distinct voice in municipal affairs. 

The mayor, the president of the board of aldermen, and the 
comptroller, who are elected by the voters of the whole city, 
cast three votes each; the presidents of the boroughs of Man¬ 
hattan and Brooklyn cast two votes each, while the presidents 
of the boroughs of Bronx, Queens, and Richmond cast one vote 
apiece. Thus it appears that the members representing the 
city as a whole can outvote the spokesmen of the boroughs. It 
is provided, furthermore, that a quorum of the board shall con¬ 
sist of a sufficient number of members to cast nine votes, in¬ 
cluding always two members who cast three votes each. Ex¬ 
cept for the above-mentioned concessions to the boroughs, the 
government of New York is highly centralized. The mayor 
is a powerful executive officer having authority to control and 
direct all of the important administrative departments. The 
board of aldermen is the general legislative body of the city 
whose members are elected by aldermanic districts or wards 
which are apportioned among the boroughs on the basis of 
population. 

The government of Greater Berlin was forged in 1920 by 
uniting with the old city of Berlin a large number of suburban 
governments, including eight cities, fifty-nine rural communes, 
and twenty-seven manorial precincts. The area of the greater 2 . Greater 
city was then divided into twenty administrative districts, and Berlin 
provision was made for the subdivision of each of these into 
local districts if desired. The principal governing body of the 
city is the municipal assembly, which chooses the administra¬ 
tive board and the burgomasters. Each of the twenty ad¬ 
ministrative districts also has an assembly or council consisting 
of the district’s members in the general assembly of the city 
plus from fifteen to forty-five district councillors chosen by the 
voters of the district at the same time that they elect members 
of the municipal assembly. These district councils have juris¬ 
diction over all matters peculiar to the district, subject to veto 
by the general administrative board of the city. Each district 
has its own administrative board and its own burgomaster, 
these functionaries being appointed by the district council. 

The district board and the district burgomasters act not only 
as agents of the district councils but also as agents of the ad¬ 
ministrative board of the greater city. By concurrent resolu- 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


3. Metro¬ 
politan 
London 


180 

tion of the district board and the district council, approved by 
the administrative board of the city, the administrative district 
may be partitioned into local districts, and each of these may 
have its local chairman and local council. Though it may not 
be strictly accurate to apply the term “ federal ” to this novel 
scheme of metropolitan organization, it is federal in the sense 
that it undertakes to make provision for local autonomy while 
at the same time establishing a unified system of government 
for the metropolitan area as a whole. 

The government of London consists of three parts — the city 
of London, the several metropolitan districts, and the admin¬ 
istrative county of London. The city of London is the ancient 
and historic municipality of one square mile which is now but 
a tiny enclave in the heart of the great metropolis. It retains 
its corporate entity and its curiously mediaeval system of gov¬ 
ernment, although it has ceased to be a prominent factor in the 
government of the metropolitan area. The metropolitan dis¬ 
tricts are special areas set apart by parliamentary enactment 
for the administration of some particular function of govern¬ 
ment through a special board or commission. The metropoli¬ 
tan districts of Greater London are enumerated on page 177 
supra. The administrative county of London is coterminous 
with the boundaries of the Metropolitan Board of Works, 
and has jurisdiction within this area over all affairs not vested 
in the city of London or one of the special districts. The 
county of London is divided into twenty-eight boroughs. The 
governing body of the county is a county council. The mem¬ 
bers of the council include a body of councillors chosen by the 
voters according to parliamentary constituencies and a body 
of aldermen chosen by the councillors. Each borough has 
also its borough council, which is constituted in substantially 
the same way as are all other borough councils in England. 
The distribution of powers between the county and the boroughs 
follows the federal idea. The county has exclusive jurisdic¬ 
tion over some matters, the boroughs over others. There is 
also a large area of authority in which the powers of the county 
and the boroughs overlap. Unfortunately the division of 
powers between the county and the boroughs is so illogical 
arid ambiguous that great confusion and dissatisfaction have 
resulted. The situation is now becoming intolerable, and is 
aggravated by the fact that the outlying areas have grown 
so prodigiously since 1888, when the administrative county 


METROPOLITAN GOVERNMENT 


181 

was established, that a large part of the metropolitan region 
is now devoid of even the doubtful blessings of the partial 
unification accomplished by the creation of the administrative 
county. The last few years have seen many proposals for 
further unification, but as yet nothing has been done. 

From the foregoing review of the expedients and processes 
by which metropolitan unification has been attempted it is 
plain that the problem is not to be solved by any simple for¬ 
mula. Important and indispensable as political unity is for 
the good government and social well-being of the metropolitan 
community, it can be purchased at too great a price. To pur¬ 
chase unity by making such liberal concessions to local sub¬ 
divisions as will cripple and impair the efficiency of the metro¬ 
politan government, is manifestly too great a price to pay. 
On the other hand, to ignore local feeling and disregard essen¬ 
tial local interests by overcentralization, may also turn out to 
be a bad bargain. The proper balance between local and 
central authority is hard to strike, and it is even harder to de¬ 
vise governmental machinery that will maintain such a balance 
once it is found. The prime desiderata of metropolitan gov¬ 
ernment are unity, simplicity, and flexibility combined with 
adjustability to local as well as general needs. How to achieve 
these desiderata is a problem for scientific study and con¬ 
structive statesmanship applied to each metropolitan situation 
as though it were sui generis. 

Selected References 

A. C. Hanford, Problems in Municipal Government, Chap. VIII. 
C. C. Maxey, Readings in Municipal Government, Chap. VI. 

B. W. Maxwell, Contemporary Municipal Government of Ger¬ 

many, Chap. IX. 

W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. I, 
Chap. XXII. 

T. H. Reed, Municipal Government in the United States, Chap. 

XVIII. 

J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chap. XXII. 

Questions and Problems for Discussion 

i. How many independent or semi-independent units of local gov¬ 
ernment can you discover in the urban area in which you live? Did 
those conditions come about as the result of careful planning of gov¬ 
ernmental machinery to meet the needs of the urban community? 


Conclusions 


182 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


2. Prepare a plan of political unification which will be suited to 
the needs and circumstances of the urban community in which you 
live. 

3. Would the principles followed in the formation of Greater 
Berlin be of any value in the solution of the problems of metro¬ 
politan organization in London, New York, and elsewhere? 


CHAPTER XVI 

THE PROBLEM OF ADMINISTRATION 

In 1900 Dr. Frank J. Goodnow, then professor of administra¬ 
tive law in Columbia University, published a book entitled 
Politics and Administration, which laid the foundation for 
much of our contemporary thinking on the subject of public 
administration. Rejecting the tripartite theory of the separa¬ 
tion of governmental powers as unsound in principle and un¬ 
workable in practice, and likewise the dogma of functional 
unity, Professor Goodnow advanced the hypothesis that there 
are two natural and mutually exclusive categories of govern¬ 
mental action. These he called “ politics ” and “ administra¬ 
tion.” “ Politics,” he said, “ has to do with policies or expres¬ 
sions of the state will. Administration has to do with the 
execution of these policies.” The function of politics, as con¬ 
ceived by Goodnow, involves all governmental processes having 
to do with the expression of the public will, with the determina¬ 
tion of who shall express that will, with the determination of 
the methods by which it shall be expressed, and with such con¬ 
trol of administration as may be necessary to insure the execu¬ 
tion of this expressed will. The function of administration, 
on the other hand, involves those governmental processes which 
have to do with the conversion of general principles or rules 
of policy, as expressed through political processes, into concrete 
achievement through detailed application to situations arising 
in the relations of human beings to one another and to the body 
politic. According to the Goodnow theory all organs, agen¬ 
cies, and instrumentalities of government are classifiable as 
essentially political or essentially administrative, and should 
be differentiated, organized, and mutually adjusted on that 
basis. 

The importance of the Goodnow doctrine does not lie in the 
fact that it was immediately taken up and applied by the 
artificers of governmental machinery, but in its gradual per¬ 
meation of the realms of political thought and action. We 

183 


The Good¬ 
now doctrine 
of politics 
and ad¬ 
ministration 


Importance 
of the Good¬ 
now theory 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The signifi¬ 
cance of ad¬ 
ministration 
in city gov¬ 
ernment 


184 

still construct much of our governmental machinery according 
to unitary or tripartite specifications; but we are increasingly 
coming to think and act in terms of “ politics ” and “ admin¬ 
istration/’ and to modify accordingly the actual operation 
of our unitary or tripartite governmental mechanisms. The 
best evidence of this is found in our growing impatience with 
the confusion of political and administrative processes. Re¬ 
gardless of the structure of our governmental machinery, we are 
beginning to demand that administration in all its phases shall 
be non-political. In the administration of justice this demand 
arose very early, in fact long before the publication of Dr. 
Goodnow’s book; and we are now persistently extending the 
demand to the other phase of administration, which Goodnow 
termed the administration of government. Indeed this is one 
of the most significant developments of recent years. 

In the field of city government the desire for non-political 
administration has manifested itself in divers ways — in the 
numerical reduction of elected administrative officials, in the 
unification and simplification of administrative machinery t 
under a single directing head, in the introduction of the merit 
system, in the elimination of councilmanic participation in the 
appointment of administrative officials, and in the complete 
readjustment of political and administrative relations, as in the 
commission and city manager plans of municipal government. 
Administration, and particularly the administration of gov¬ 
ernment as contrasted with administration of justice, has come 
to be a matter of such vital importance in the daily lives of 
urbanites, and has come to involve so many obviously technical 
problems, that “political” administration can no longer be 
tolerated. 

For the city dweller efficient administration is the sine qua 
non of security, well-being, and comfort. It is the doing 
arm of government. It brings water to the tap in his bathroom, 
guides electric energy to the switch on his wall, paves, cleans, 
and lights his streets, takes away his rubbish and garbage, 
provides sewers for the sanitation of his home, supervises 
the operation and regulates the charges of street railways and 
motor buses, controls vehicular and pedestrian traffic, in¬ 
spects and regulates all sorts of food-handling establishments, 
protects him from crime and wrong-doing, combats disease, 
operates parks, playgrounds, swimming pools, and other recrea¬ 
tional facilities, and performs a thousand and one other services 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 


185 


without which his life would be fraught with distress and 
trouble. 

When administration fails to measure up to its responsibili¬ 
ties, the urbanite tastes life in the raw, for he has no means 
of alleviating the distress and discomfort which are incident 
to city life when the executive arm of government is palsied 
and weak. If the city water supply is impure and unpalatable, 
his choice is to take it or leave it; if the city food inspection 
is lax, he can use contaminated foods or starve; if his garbage 
is not promptly hauled away, he must let it stand until the 
collectors get around to it; if public utility services are unsatis¬ 
factory and excessively expensive, he can howl, but he has to go 
on using them and paying for them or do without light, heat, 
transportation, and telephone service; if the streets are poorly 
paved and lighted, he can rave about it, but he cannot stay 
off the streets; if the police are corrupt and inefficient, he can 
gnash his teeth in rage, but he has to go on paying tribute to 
racketeers and gangsters. So the city man is coming to be 
greatly concerned about administration; he realizes that the 
problems of administration mean more to him in a direct and 
immediate way than the problems of politics, and further¬ 
more that so long as administration is clean and efficient, 
politics, however bad, cannot do him much harm. 

The major problems of administration are three in number 
— the problem of politico-administrative relations, the prob¬ 
lem of administrative organization, and the problem of admin¬ 
istrative personnel. All three of these problems are of a more 
of less technical character, and are therefore somewhat diffi¬ 
cult to present in non-technical language. 

Administration cannot operate in a vacuum. Because it is 
the doing arm of government, it must perforce have extensive 
and continuous contacts with the political phases of the gov¬ 
ernmental process. Administration cannot, or at least should 
not, exclusively prescribe its own tasks, supply its own funds, 
fix its own limits of power, and determine its own organization. 
These things impinge upon the domain of policy, and it is not 
the function of administration to determine policies but to 
carry out policies in the most businesslike and efficient man¬ 
ner possible. According to strict theory the general questions 
of what shall be done, by whom it shall be done, what sums 
shall be expended in doing it, and what general procedure 
shall be followed in doing it, fall in the province of policy 


The major 
problems of 
administra¬ 
tion 


The question 
of politico- 
administra¬ 
tive relations 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


186 


Politics and 
administra¬ 
tion should 
not mix. 


Controversial 
points in the 
application 
of this 
principle 


and must be dealt with through political processes; while 
the actual application of these general determinations to John 
Doe or Richard Roe, to the X company or the Y corporation, 
to First Avenue or Central Park is essentially a matter of ad¬ 
ministration and should be carried out by processes that are 
wholly administrative. 

It is axiomatic, therefore, that politics and administration 
should not mix. Politics mixed with administration paralyzes, 
enfeebles, and corrupts; administration mixed with politics 
bewilders, deceives, and perverts. If this be true, and these 
processes should remain unmixed, what should be the nature 
of the contacts between them? The ideal is easier to state in 
the abstract than to achieve in reality. In a democracy every¬ 
thing revolves around the electoral process, which is the basis 
of popular control. Everything is predicated upon and finds its 
ultimate sanction in this basic political expedient; otherwise 
there can be no democracy. This means, of course, that popu¬ 
lar control through the electoral process must extend to the 
administration as well as to the political organs of government, 
for when such is not the case administration quickly degen¬ 
erates into bureaucracy. But popular control of administration 
should not go farther than is necessary to insure faithful and 
efficient execution of policies; it should not go so far as to inject 
politics into administration, or to obstruct or interfere with 
administration on any other grounds than that administration, 
viewed solely from the administrative standpoint, is failing 
in its function of carrying out policies and decisions. And, 
contrariwise, administration and administrative matters should 
not be dragged into the field of policy and determination of 
policy. Administration may properly furnish technical advice 
and assistance in connection with the political processes of 
government, but beyond that it should not go. 

When it comes to transmuting these abstract principles into 
specific governmental machinery, we are plunged into the 
realm of controversy. Should administrative officials be elected 
by popular vote? “ Yes,” answers the ultra-democrat, “ it is 
the only way to guarantee popular control.” “ No,” says tho 
exponent of scientific management, “ elected officials are bound 
to be*more influenced by political than by administrative con¬ 
siderations, and the result will be a deleterious mixture of 
politics and administration.” Contemporary opinion is rapidly 
shifting toward the latter position except in the case of the 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 


187 

chief executive. Even the stoutest devotees of efficiency and 
economy concede the necessity of keeping administration sub¬ 
ject to popular control, and there are many who believe that 
the only way to accomplish this is to have the head of the ad¬ 
ministrative establishment elected by popular vote. But the 
theorists of this school are not as numerous as they once were. 
In Europe it is quite generally held, and the same point of 
view is rapidly gaining adherents in the United States, that 
representative control of administration is much more effective 
than direct control, and hence that the chief executive of the 
city, and perhaps other administrative officials as well, should 
be chosen by the city council or some other representative body 
elected by the voters. 

This opens up another fruitful source of controversy. As¬ 
suming that the administrative establishment, through the 
appointment of the chief executive or other administrative 
functionaries, is to be subject to popular control through the 
medium of a representative body such as the city council, how 
far shall its servitude go? Shall the authority of the repre¬ 
sentative body extend to all details of administration, or shall 
it be restricted to barest essentials of control? There is no 
uniform practice. It is obvious that the representative body 
must have some control over administrative personnel, but 
under a centralized system of administrative organization its 
direct control may well stop with the chief executive, for 
through him it may readily control the remainder of the ad¬ 
ministrative staff. It is clear also that the representative body 
must have control over the financial operations of the admin¬ 
istration, but whether this should include the right to control 
the details of financial transactions, such as fixing individual 
rates of compensation and sanctioning specific purchases and 
payments, is a much-mooted question both in theory and in 
practice. The better opinion favors control through a budget¬ 
ary system which throws the responsibility upon the chief 
executive, and enables the council through him to have its 
financial policies carried out. It is evident, too, that the repre¬ 
sentative body must have some control over the organization 
of the administrative establishment, but it is doubtful whether 
this should go so far as to preclude any readjustment of in¬ 
ternal administrative organization without its consent. The 
representative body must control the magnitude and general 
outlines of administrative organization in order to be able 


1. Elected 
vs. appointed 
executives 


2. How far 
shall repre¬ 
sentative 
control go? 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


3. The ten¬ 
ure of 
adminis¬ 
trative 
officials 


Actual 
relations 
between 
politics and 
administra¬ 
tion in 
present city 
government 


188 

to control both executive and financial operations, but to 
deprive the administrative establishment of the right to make 
its own intradepartmental, and even interdepartmental, read¬ 
justments is to impose a serious barrier in the way of admin¬ 
istrative efficiency. 

Another problem that has occasioned much perplexity is the 
extent to which politics should determine the tenure of admin¬ 
istrative officials. When administrative officials are elected, 
politics is the chief and often sole factor in such determination. 
This is decidedly bad and has come into general disfavor. 
But when administrative officials are appointed, politics may 
be almost as influential as in the case of popular election. 
If the appointment is made on a political basis and for a 
fixed and definite term, it is almost certain that political con¬ 
siderations will predominate. This explains why we are mov¬ 
ing in the direction of appointments on the basis of merit as 
determined by objective tests, and tenure during good be¬ 
havior. Indeed it appears that we are gradually approaching 
the day when, by law or custom, politics will be deprived 
of most of its influence upon administrative personnel except 
as it filters down from the necessarily politically controlled 
chief executive at the top. 

But in city government as we actually find it today the 
relations between politics and administration range all the 
way from the indiscriminate mixing of the two, such as we 
see in the more chaotically organized American cities, to 
conscious and deliberate attempts to assign each to its proper 
sphere, such as we observe in some American cities under the 
manager plan and in the actual practice, if not the governmental 
forms, of many European cities. Between these extremes 
are more varieties of attempted adjustment of political and ad¬ 
ministrative relations than there are brands of goods in a pickle 
factory. There are cities in which the headship of the adminis¬ 
trative establishment is subjected entirely to politics, but is 
surrounded by civil service restrictions designed to keep pol¬ 
itics out of the subordinate administrative service; there are 
cities in which both the administrative head and the subordi¬ 
nate administrative agencies are open, in part at least, to direct 
political pressure; there are cities in which administration 
seemingly holds sway over politics; and there are cities in 
which politics and administration are supposedly held in a state 
of equipoise by a system of mutual checks and balance. 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 189 

From the standpoint of the internal organization of the 
administrative machinery of the city several interesting and 
important questions must be considered. First, there is the 
question of centralized vs. decentralized organization. The 
trend at the present time is in the direction of extreme central¬ 
ization, but there are still a great many cities where decen¬ 
tralized organization obtains. If we look to the form only, 
municipal administration in England is utterly decentralized, 
for there is no chief executive and each separate department 
and agency appears to be free to act on its own motive power. 
Interdepartmental coordination is accomplished, to be sure; 
but through the medium of extra-legal usage, and not through 
the definite concentration of administrative authority in a 
supreme administrative head. Likewise in many American 
cities we are struck by the absence of unity of command in the 
administrative system. There are numerous boards, com¬ 
missions, and officers which enjoy so much independent au¬ 
thority that, whatever their nominal positions, they are not 
obliged to march, wheel, and countermarch at the command 
of any administrative superior. Nor is there, as in England, 
any effective coordination of administrative units through vol¬ 
untary action. The evils incident to decentralized administra¬ 
tion have already been discussed at considerable length. The 
essence of administration is, as we know, action, and decen¬ 
tralization begets inaction and inefficacy in municipal admin¬ 
istration just as surely as it does in military operations. It is 
for this reason that modern opinion espouses the military prin¬ 
ciple of centralization in the organization of administrative 
machinery. This principle is dominant in the administrative 
structure of French and German cities, and in American 
cities under the strong mayor, the commission, and the man¬ 
ager plans. Supreme executive authority may be vested in a 
single individual, as in the mayor or city manager, or in a 
board, as in the city commission or administrative board; 
but it is always definitely located at the top of a hierarchical 
arrangement of administrative units. 

After the question of centralization vs. decentralization 
comes that of vertical vs. horizontal 1 groupings of administra- 

1 The terms “ vertical ” and “ horizontal ” have been applied to these 
two types of functional organization because they graphically describe 
the essential point of contrast between them. A “ vertical ” grouping 
occurs when a number of related functions are placed under the jurisdic- 


Questions 
pertaining 
to the inter¬ 
nal organi¬ 
zation of ad¬ 
ministrative 
machinery 


1. Central¬ 
ized vs. de¬ 
centralized 
organization 


2. Vertical 
vs. horizon¬ 
tal organi¬ 
zation 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Importance 
of proper 
adjustment 
of vertical 
and hori¬ 
zontal func¬ 
tion; 


igO 

tive functions. The vertically organized plan of administrative 
subdivision proceeds upon the principle that departments 
should be organized by grouping together activities having 
to do with the same ends or objects of public service. Thus 
all activities pertaining to police work would be grouped to¬ 
gether and organized as a police department; and by similar 
groupings, departments for public health, parks, water sup¬ 
ply, public works, education, etc., would be organized. The 
horizontal plan proceeds upon the principle of grouping to¬ 
gether like ways and means of accomplishing the various ends 
of municipal administration. Under this plan there would 
be a department of personnel work, a department of legal 
work, a department of financial work, a department of build¬ 
ings, and so on. In actual city administration neither of 
these two principles is consistently followed or thoroughly 
carried out. Some departments are constituted upon the 
vertical basis and others upon the horizontal basis, and with¬ 
out much discrimination as to their proper functional rela¬ 
tions. In the average city we find a number of vertically or¬ 
ganized departments —- police, fire, health, recreation, public 
works, public utilities, and the like — and perhaps an equal 
number of horizontally organized departments, such as law, 
finance, civil service, purchasing, etc. All the vertical depart¬ 
ments involve legal work, financial work, personnel work, and 
other forms of horizontal activity; and all the horizontal 
departments are designed to perform functions that are indis¬ 
pensable to the ultimate objectives of municipal administra¬ 
tion. 

But when the lines of cleavage between departments fail to 
recognize the intimate and important bearings of each of these 
two great classes of administrative work upon the other, 
disastrous results are bound to ensue. Departments constructed 
like water-tight compartments make excellent containers but 
poor conductors. The police department, let us say, gathers 

tion of a department whose operations from top to bottom move in a 
straight line downward, and do not directly involve transactions in any 
other field. A “ horizontal ” grouping occurs when the functions placed 
together for departmental purposes are of such nature that they cut 
across the whole field of municipal work. A public health department is 
“ vertical ” in its operation because it is confined to one perpendicular 
line of activity which does not touch other fields, while a finance depart¬ 
ment is “ horizontal ” because finance is common to all kinds of adminis¬ 
trative operation. 



THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 


IQI 

within its bulkheads all the activities pertaining to police ad¬ 
ministration. These necessarily involve certain legal, finan¬ 
cial, personnel, and building operations which could be more 
efficiently carried on by agencies specialized to those ends. 
The police department is, therefore, encumbering itself with 
functions that are but secondarily germane to police admin¬ 
istration, and at the same time is depriving certain of the 
horizontally organized departments of work that logically 
belongs to them. Obviously this is a situation that is pregnant 
with trouble. Not only is the police department likely to per¬ 
form these adventitious functions less efficiently than the 
departments to which they properly belong, but it is likely 
also to devote them to such narrowly departmental purposes 
as to create friction and estrangement between it and other 
departments. Fancy, then, the condition which must ensue 
when parks, public health, public works, and all the other 
vertically organized departments, like the police department, 
arrogate to themselves all the work associated with the dis¬ 
charge of their special services. Each department will be doing 
its own legal work, its own personnel work, its own financial 
work, .its own purchasing, and so forth, while the regular 
legal, financial, personnel, and purchasing departments will 
do only such work in their own fields as is not readily assignable 
to one of the vertically constituted departments. The result 
is not merely ineffective coordination of essential administra¬ 
tive operations, but extensive duplication of machinery and 
personnel, and widespread and devastating friction between de¬ 
partments in the use of what ought to be their common means 
of achievement. 

Only within the last decade or two have the deleterious con¬ 
sequences of failure to discriminate between the relations of 
vertical and horizontal functions and properly adjust them 
been recognized. We have, therefore, no large or authorita¬ 
tive body of thought on the subject. No city administration 
ever has been or ever can be organized strictly according to one 
principle or the other. Both are indispensable, and the prob¬ 
lem of modern administrative science is to find a proper com¬ 
bination of the two. The most fruitful suggestion in this 
direction has come from exponents of the “ line and staff ” 
doctrine in scientific management. For many years military 
experts have recognized a distinction between what they call 
“ line ” functions and “ staff ” functions. Line functions are 


The line and 
staff princi¬ 
ple of organi¬ 
zation 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


192 


Trends in 
direction of 
line and staff 
organization 


Consider¬ 

ations 

governing 

departmen¬ 

talization 


those which have to do with the actual execution of military 
operations in the line of battle, while staff functions are those 
which have to do with information, planning, coordination, 
technical assistance. Efficiency engineers contend that the 
same distinction obtains in civil administration, and that 
it is not only possible but desirable to organize the administra¬ 
tive machinery of the city according to the line and staff 
principle. Under the chief executive, who corresponds to the 
commander of an army, they would have one group of depart¬ 
ments for line functions and another set of departments for 
staff functions. The line departments could be confined to the 
ends of city government — the actual operations on the battle 
line — while the staff departments would be preoccupied with 
the means of achieving those ends. The staff departments 
would deal with such things as research, law, finance, per¬ 
sonnel, records, planning, and engineering; and in so doing 
would inform, advise, aid, and coordinate the line depart¬ 
ments. The line departments would not of course take orders 
from the staff departments; orders would come only from the 
chief executive. But the chief executive would undoubtedly 
lean heavily upon the staff departments for information and 
technical advice, and possibly would employ them as agencies 
for the better correlation and articulation of line activities. 

Such, in brief, is the theory of the line and staff plan of 
administrative organization. No city has adopted it in toto, 
but there is a marked tendency, as cities revamp their ad¬ 
ministrative machinery, to follow it to some extent. Finance 
departments and especially budget bureaus and purchasing 
departments are being very generally placed in the position of 
staff agencies. The same thing is true, though perhaps to a 
lesser extent, of civil service commissions, law departments, 
and engineering departments. The need for unity of thought 
and action in these particular phases of municipal administra¬ 
tion is too patent to be ignored. Undoubtedly the increasing 
force of the demand for economy, not to mention efficiency — 
that is secondary in the public mind — will bring further 
progress in the same direction. 

The departmentalization of the administrative machinery 
is simply a convenient expedient for the division of labor. 
An Argus-eyed and omnicompetent chief executive would find 
it easier to direct the operations of administration without 
departmental divisions than with them. But most chief 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 


193 

executives lack the supreme capacity for detail and unlimited 
working strength which non-departmentalized administration 
would involve; they must delegate their responsibilities and 
divide their labors. The simplest and easiest way to do this 
is to set up an organization responsible for each major branch 
of the city administration and place at the head of it an official 
or board directly responsible to the chief executive. The num¬ 
ber and structure of these major units, or departments, of 
administrative organization will depend of course upon the 
size of the city and the volume and character of its administra¬ 
tive operations. There is no orthodox plan of departmentaliza¬ 
tion. A city that owns and operates public utilities of any 
kind will require departments that non-utility-owning cities 
do not; a seaboard city will require departments and services 
not needed in an inland city; a small city may combine sev¬ 
eral services in a single department, whereas the same iden¬ 
tical combination would be impracticable in a large city; and 
so on indefinitely. Similar considerations must govern in sub¬ 
dividing departments into lesser units such as bureaus and 
divisions. In actual practice the number of administrative 
departments varies from three, which is the common number 
in many of the smaller cities, to upwards of thirty or even 
forty in the great metropolitan centers. Bureaus and divisions 
vary in number to about the same degree. 

Cities with decentralized administrative systems do not 
exhibit such regularity of departmental organization. De¬ 
partment heads are not uniformly responsible to the chief 
executive, but are often directly responsible either to the people 
or to the city council. Functions are not distributed among 
departments according to administrative principle so much as 
according to political expediency, and bureaus and divisions 
are established on somewhat the same basis. But decentral¬ 
ized administration is in disrepute and is rapidly passing 
away. 

One of the most vexing difficulties in the process of adminis¬ 
tration is that of interdepartmental relations. One of the car¬ 
dinal weaknesses of decentralized administration is the fact that 
the several departments are so detached and disconnected that 
they do not maintain those contacts and do not achieve that de¬ 
gree of interdepartmental coordination which are requisite for 
efficient administration. In centralized administration, how¬ 
ever, there is at least one organic bond between the several de- 


The problem 
of inter¬ 
departmental 
relations 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


External 

contacts 


194 

partments, and that is found in their common responsibility to 
the chief executive. It is common practice for the department 
heads to meet regularly with the chief executive as a cabinet 
or executive council, and through this relation to thresh out and 
adjust many interdepartmental problems. Unfortunately, in 
most cases, this contact occurs only at the top, and below the 
department heads the several departments remain completely 
insulated from one another. But there are many matters of 
interdepartmental concern which can be better adjusted 
through contacts between subordinate functionaries of different 
departments than through what might be called cabinet chan¬ 
nels. No generally accepted plan for meeting this need has 
been evolved, but several expedients deserve mention. Wise 
executives now generally recognize the value of interdepart¬ 
mental conferences, and particularly of unofficial conferences 
in which the utmost freedom of speech or action obtains. Con¬ 
ferences, for example, of the financial officers of several differ¬ 
ent departments, or of engineering or law officers, may achieve 
understandings and agree upon programs of action which will 
enormously lighten the burden of the chief executive and his 
department heads and at the same time promote interdepart¬ 
mental harmony and cooperation. Such conferences are now 
encouraged and facilitated by prudent executives. Of some¬ 
what the same character, but less flexible in structure, are ex 
officio and advisory boards made up of representatives of differ¬ 
ent departments. The ex officio board is usually a body em¬ 
powered to take definitive action with reference to certain mat¬ 
ters, such for example as the granting of licenses, the investment 
of sinking funds, and discipline of employees. The advisory 
board, on the contrary, though official in character, exercises 
only powers of recommendation and suggestion. 

One further problem of internal administrative organization 
which deserves brief consideration before we leave that subject 
is the matter of direct contacts and relations between the ad¬ 
ministration, the representative body, and the general public. 
This matter has received scant attention in the United States, 
but in European cities it has been deemed a matter of consid¬ 
erable importance. In German cities there are special bodies 
known as joint commissions (Deputationen ), one for each ad¬ 
ministrative department. Each joint commission is made up 
of a paid magistrate, one or more unpaid magistrates, several 
members of the council, and a number of private citizens ap- 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 


195 

pointed by the burgomaster. Though these bodies have no 
final powers, they are at liberty to consider and discuss all mat¬ 
ters of departmental policy. Bringing together as they do 
spokesmen of the administration, of the representative branch 
of government, and of the general citizenry, they tend to de¬ 
velop sympathy and understanding between these different 
governmental forces and to counteract the excesses of both 
politics and administration. In French cities the adjoints, who 
are members of the council, serve not only as administrative 
assistants of the mayor, but also as councilmanic observers of 
administration in action. In English cities the committee sys¬ 
tem has developed in such a way as to constitute a bridge be¬ 
tween the policy-determining side of government and the inner 
processes of administration. In the United States council- 
manic committees as a rule have little direct contact with the 
daily and minute routine of administration, and no special ma¬ 
chinery has been developed, as in Germany and France, for 
bringing bureaucracy and democracy together on common 
ground. Feeble attempts have been made in a few recent city 
charters to open the way for the creation of advisory boards of 
citizens to consult and cooperate with the different departments 
and bureaus, but nothing has ever come of it. 

We come now to the third major problem of administration, 
namely, the problem of administrative personnel. No automo¬ 
bile was ever made so perfect that an incompetent driver could 
not ruin it. Likewise no system of administration was ever so 
perfectly organized that incompetent civil servants could not 
bring it to grief. It is by human agencies that all systems of 
organization must be subjected to the acid test of perform¬ 
ance; and if the human agencies are unequal to the task of 
operating the machine or are wilfully determined to misuse it, 
there is no alternative but disaster. So we may conclude with¬ 
out hesitation that personnel is absolutely vital to efficient 
administration. 

The personnel problem involves several distinct phases of 
personnel administration, the most important being the selec¬ 
tion, the management, the compensation, and the retirement of 
civil servants. Each of these will now be considered at some 
length. 

In personnel matters the beginning of all things is the induc¬ 
tion of officials and employees into the administrative service 
of the city. There are just two methods of induction, one of 


The problem 
of adminis¬ 
trative per¬ 
sonnel 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


196 


Induction 
into the 
municipal 
service 


The political 
VS. the merit 
system of 
induction 


The foun¬ 
dations of 
the merit 
system 


which we shall call the political system and the other the merit 
system. Under the political system positions in the administra¬ 
tive service are filled on the basis of political influence and 
qualification. The incumbents may be elected or appointed, 
but in either case the governing considerations are political. 
Under the merit system positions are filled by appointment on 
the basis of merit as evidenced by some sort of objective test 
or examination. We need not dwell at length upon the politi¬ 
cal system. Every American is thoroughly familiar with it. 
Its foundation principle is that the spoils of office belong to the 
victors in political warfare, and that jobs should be given or 
withheld as political rewards or punishments. Every change 
of political control sweeps out of office hundreds or thousands 
of civil servants belonging to previous regimes and sweeps in 
hordes of office-hungry patriots whose chief qualification is 
their adhesion to the ranks of the dominant political party. 

The glaring evils incident to the political system have re¬ 
sulted in its general reprobation and repudiation. It has few 
defenders today, although it still has many ardent practitioners. 
The merit system has almost entirely supplanted it in English, 
French, and German cities. In the United States its vogue is 
on the decline. In some form and to some extent the merit sys¬ 
tem has been introduced in upwards of 330 American cities, in¬ 
cluding practically all the larger cities of the country. In dis¬ 
cussing the merit system we are, therefore, dealing with the 
personnel problem as it presents itself in contemporary city 
government. 

The merit system as applied in the United States rests upon 
two foundations: first, a body of legislation forbidding political 
appointments, providing for appointments on the basis of merit, 
and protecting civil servants so appointed from political inter¬ 
ference; and, second, a system of administrative machinery for 
carrying out the provisions of the civil service laws. We shall 
address ourselves first to the machinery of the merit system. 
Virtually all civil service laws vest the administration of the 
merit system in a civil service commission of three members. 
This body, since it is responsible for such things as classifica¬ 
tions, examinations, certifications for appointment, rules, and 
discipline, holds the key to the success or failure of the merit 
system. If the civil service commission is determined to make 
the merit system succeed, it will succeed despite defects in the 
law; and if, on the contrary, the civil service commission is de- 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 


197 

termined to bend the merit system to the uses of “ practical ” 
politics, it can do so in face of the most perfect civil service 
legislation ever put upon the statute books. It is plain, then, 
that the character of the civil service commission is a matter 
of commanding importance. 

What are the factors affecting the character of the civil 
service commission? The most immediately influential is un¬ 
doubtedly the mode of selection. The commonest method is ap¬ 
pointment by the mayor of the city, either with or without coun- 
cilmanic confirmation. Mayors and councils, being chosen by 
political processes, are deeply influenced by political considera¬ 
tions and therefore generally make political choices in appoint¬ 
ing civil service commissioners. There is no way of preventing 
this and at the same time leaving any discretion with the ap¬ 
pointing officials. It has been proposed that civil service com¬ 
missioners should themselves be subjected to the merit system, 
the mayor being permitted to nominate only the person achiev¬ 
ing the highest grade in a rigid examination. This possibly 
would put a stop to political appointments of the civil service 
commissioners, but it would also limit the mayor’s appointing 
power to the ministerial function of executing the official com¬ 
mission of appointment, which is a result that no legislature or 
charter-making body has been willing to contemplate. Less 
common than appointment by the mayor, as methods of choos¬ 
ing civil service commissioners, are appointment by the council 
and election by popular vote. These methods of choice are 
even more congenial to political selections than appointment by 
the mayor, and such is the usual result. 

With a civil service commission made up of persons ap¬ 
pointed under spoils influences, how can there be any hope of 
faithful adherence to merit principles? The provisions of the 
law may approximate the ideal, but they are not in the hands 
of friends. Clever manipulation by a commission hostile to 
merit principles can largely reverse the operation of the law. 
To prevent such abuses many proposals have been advanced. 
Some have suggested doing away with the civil service commis¬ 
sion entirely and placing the administration of the merit system 
in the hands of a director of personnel chosen in some non¬ 
political way. One argument against this is the contention that 
the personnel department should be under the control of the au¬ 
thorities (mayor or council) who are politically responsible for 
administration in order that they may not be able to excuse their 


Problems re¬ 
lating to the 
civil service 
commission 


Spoils influ¬ 
ences may 
demoralize 
the civil 
service com¬ 
mission. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Proposals 
for improv¬ 
ing charac¬ 
ter of civil 
service 
commission 


The biparti¬ 
san require¬ 
ment 


198 

failure to get results by the claim of ineffective cooperation in 
the administrative establishment. 

The trouble with this argument is its assumption that the 
members of the administrative establishment would possibly 
be political antagonists of the party in power, whereas if the 
merit system were faithfully carried out, they would be profi¬ 
cient technicians ready to carry out policies for any party which 
might come into power. A much more serious objection is 
found in the fact that personnel administration involves certain 
quasi-legislative and quasi-judicial activities, such as formulat¬ 
ing rules and conducting hearings, and that these duties can¬ 
not be performed by a single director of personnel who is him¬ 
self a member of the permanent civil service. This objection 
is met by a most interesting proposal put forward in 1922 by 
the committee on civil service of the Governmental Eesearch 
Conference. The substance of this proposal was that there 
should be a civil service commission of three members for the 
legislative and judicial phases of personnel administration, but 
that the purely executive phases of the work should be assigned 
exclusively to the chairman of the commission. The chairman 
would be a full-time director of personnel appointed through 
the competitive examination system. The other two members 
of the board would serve in a representative capacity and on a 
part-time basis. One of them would be appointed by the mayor 
or other executive head of the city, and the other would be 
elected by the employees in the classified service of the city. 
At a special election on February 8, 1927, the voters of Cleve¬ 
land turned down a charter amendment which would have re¬ 
modelled the municipal civil service commission somewhat along 
the lines proposed by the Governmental Research Conference. 
This proposal provided for a civil service department headed 
by a director appointed by the city manager, and for two asso¬ 
ciate commissioners, one to be appointed by the president of 
the board of education and the other by the probate judge, to 
sit with the director in adopting rules and hearing appeals. 
Though this proposed amendment was by no means as revolu¬ 
tionary as the proposal of the Governmental Research Confer¬ 
ence, it was too advanced for the voters of Cleveland despite 
their well-known predilection for governmental reform. 

Though the method of selection is undoubtedly the most in¬ 
fluential factor in determining the political or non-political 
character of the civil service commission, other factors should 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 


199 


not be overlooked. Most cities require that the civil service 
commission shall be bipartisan. The object of this is to pre¬ 
vent the commission from falling entirely into the hands of one 
political party, and to give the minority party a voice in civil 
service administration. It does accomplish these results, but 
it also means that partisanship must be one of the first con¬ 
siderations in making appointments to the civil service commis¬ 
sion, for it is impossible to observe the bipartisan requirement 
without making appointments on the basis of partisanship. 
The tenure of office of members of the civil service commission 
may also have some influence upon the political complexion of 
the commission. When the official terms are coextensive with 
that of the appointing authority, it is almost certain that every 
change in political control of the council or the office of mayor 
will bring a renovation of the civil service commission, and that 
such changes will be actuated by political motives. On the 
other hand, when the terms of civil service commissioners 
rotate so that vacancies occur one at a time in alternate years, 
it frequently happens that two commissioners are appointed un¬ 
der previous regimes as against one appointed by the present 
regime, and this leads to political strife between the civil serv¬ 
ice commission and the chief executive. 

In Massachusetts and New Jersey the state civil service com¬ 
mission administers both state and municipal civil service laws. 
Though this arrangement does not eliminate politics from mu¬ 
nicipal civil service, it reduces the influence of local politics 
and gives the civil service authorities greater independence in 
dealing with local situations. Unfortunately, however, it has 
sometimes had the effect of injecting state politics into local 
affairs and local politics into state affairs. Moreover it has 
at times furnished a convenient alibi for local politicians, who 
are ever ready to shift responsibility to state authorities when 
opportunity presents itself. In Ohio the state civil service com¬ 
mission is supposed to exercise some supervision over the 
local civil service commissions, but the results of this super¬ 
vision have not materially improved municipal civil service 
administration. 

We have already discussed some of the reforms which have 
been advocated as means of securing non-political civil service 
commissions, and we might mention a great many more. It 
has been suggested that civil service commissioners be ap¬ 
pointed by the courts; but we cannot be so certain of the non¬ 


state ad¬ 
ministration 
of municipal 
civil service 
laws 


Suggested 
means of se¬ 
curing non¬ 
political 
civil service 
adminis¬ 
tration 


200 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The principal 
tasks of the 
civil service 
commission 


The problem 
of classifi¬ 
cation. 


political character of the courts as to place great reliance in this 
expedient. Another suggestion is that the state civil service 
commission shall appoint municipal civil service commissioners, 
preferably by competitive examination. The success of this 
device would depend, of course, upon the character of the state 
civil service body, and of that we cannot be sure. It has also 
been proposed that municipal civil service commissioners be 
chosen by a special examining board composed of prominent 
citizens not connected with the city government. But just how 
politics can be kept out of such examining boards does not 
clearly appear in the proposal. Still another proposal fre¬ 
quently made in one form or another is that civil service com¬ 
missioners be chosen by competitive examination. There is no 
gainsaying the merits of competitive examinations; but experi¬ 
ence has shown that no system of competitive examinations is 
completely proof against political assaults. In truth, although 
some of these proposed reforms may be superior to the others, 
there is not much probability that any of them would guarantee 
a non-political civil service commission so long as public opin¬ 
ion remains wedded to the spoils idea. It will clarify our 
thinking and enhance our understanding of the difficulties of 
civil service administration if we recognize this indisputable 
fact. 

Let us now direct our attention to the salient principles of the 
merit system, which it is the duty of the civil service commission 
to carry into execution. These may be summarized as follows: 

(i) civil servants whose duties are non-political to be appointed 
on the basis of merit as disclosed by objective examinations and 
tests; (2) civil servants so appointed to enjoy permanent tenure, 
and not to be subject to removal for political reasons; (3) civil 
servants on permanent appointment not to be subject to dis¬ 
crimination, interference, or mistreatment for political reasons, 
not to be obliged to perform political services, and not them¬ 
selves to engage in political activities. 

To carry out these principles it is necessary at the outset to 
determine which positions in the municipal service are to be 
placed under the protecting aegis of the merit system and which 
are not. This is accomplished by a procedure known as classi¬ 
fication. The municipal service is divided into two great 
classes or services, which are commonly termed the classified 
service and the unclassified service. All the positions which are 
to be filled by merit tests and safeguarded from political uses 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 


201 


are placed in the classified service; all others go into the un¬ 
classified service. The civil service law itself usually attempts 
to differentiate in a general way between the two services, and 
always exempts certain positions from the classified service. 
These include as a rule officers elected by the people, judicial 
officers, chief executives, heads of departments, confidential 
secretaries and assistants, persons employed on contract to per¬ 
form special services, and temporary employees. It is seldom 
practicable, however, for the law to undertake an exhaustive 
enumeration of the positions which are to be placed in the clas¬ 
sified service; so it contents itself with a partial enumeration 
and a sweeping definition of the types of positions to be in¬ 
cluded, and leaves to the civil service commission — in some 
cases to the council or mayor — the duty of deciding in specific 
cases whether a job shall be in the classified or the unclassified 
service. 

Politics, the heavy villain in the piece, now stalks across the 
stage again. Where discretion is vested lies freedom of action. 
Since the law cannot enumerate every position or specially 
mention every type of position to be included in the classified 
service, and since, therefore, the civil service commission or 
some other authority has to be given freedom to decide in cases 
not explicitly covered by the law, there is abundant opportunity 
to use the power of classification for political purposes. Jobs 
not mentioned in the law are not placed in the classified service 
unless the classifying authority (usually the civil service com¬ 
mission) so decrees; newly created jobs are not classified unless 
the classifying authority desires it; instead of filling vacancies 
by permanent appointment the civil service commission may 
authorize a temporary appointment and thus take the position 
out of the classified service. The foregoing are some of the 
methods by which a civil service commission prompted by po¬ 
litical motives may undermine the merit principle at the very 
outset. In cases too numerous to mention political henchmen 
have been placed on the city payroll and kept there for months 
and years by the device of temporary appointments periodically 
renewed by the civil service commission. There are many cases 
where, in order to provide places for spoilsmen, the commission 
has refused to classify positions manifestly belonging in the 
classified service, and because of the discretionary character 
of the duty the commission could not be compelled to do so by 
judicial mandate. Politically disposed commissions have also 


Abuses con¬ 
nected with 
classification 


202 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Competitive 
and non¬ 
competitive 
positions 


been able to remove positions from the classified service. If it 
seemed inexpedient, or the commission lacked the power to 
transfer them directly to the unclassified service, there were 
ways of smuggling them out of the classified service,, as by 
changing titles and thus ostensibly creating a new position not 
covered by classified service. 

The reason for applying the term “ classified service to 
the positions under the merit system is that the civil service 
commission is supposed to group these positions according to 
their respective duties and responsibilities, and classes, grades, 
or ranks are to be used as bases for differentiation in examina¬ 
tion procedure, rates of compensation, pension allowances, etc. 
This power of classification also gives the commission a chance 
to play politics. All positions in the classified service are 
required to be filled by means of examinations or tests, but 
there are two types of examination — competitive and non¬ 
competitive. The competitive method of examination is the 
ideal method, for all candidates take the same examination, are 
graded on the same basis, and the candidate making the high¬ 
est grade wins the appointment. But competitive examina¬ 
tions are not practicable in all cases. It is difficult to prescribe 
a satisfactory competitive examination for common laborers 
who need no special intelligence or education, and also for 
positions calling for certain qualities of personal judgment 
which cannot be measured by examinations. It is the prac¬ 
tice, therefore, to allow the civil service commission considerable 
leeway in exempting positions from the requirement of com¬ 
petitive examinations. These non-competitive, or exempt, 
positions are filled by examination, but the commission is free 
to examine the candidates by such methods as it deems ap¬ 
propriate. It is not obliged to give the same examination to all 
candidates, to rate all on the same basis, or to prefer those 
making the highest grades. What more could a commission 
of politicians want? By placing as many positions as possible 
in the non-competitive group and administering examinations 
with an eye to political favoritism it is not difficult to take 
care of their political friends. Another possibility of political 
thimblerigging through classification is found in the ability of 
the commission to establish special grades and classes for com¬ 
pensation purposes in such a way as to reward friends and 
punish enemies. 

One of the biggest tasks of the civil service commission, 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 


203 


and one of the biggest problems in public personnel manage¬ 
ment, is that of examinations. Whether competitive or non¬ 
competitive in character, the value of civil service examina¬ 
tions as expedients for screening out the unfit and protecting 
the public service against the spoils system depends entirely 
upon the integrity of the civil service commission. With the 
preparation and conduct of the examinations, the grading 
and rating of the candidates, the keeping of the records, and 
all other matters pertaining to the examination system in the 
hands of the civil service commission and its staff of secre¬ 
taries and examiners, there is no limit to the possibilities of 
deviation from the line of strict impartiality in the interest 
of favored candidates. It is impossible to construct a barbed 
wire entanglement of legal prohibitions capable of curbing 
a civil service body bent on prostituting the examination 
system to political uses. Questions can be prepared to favor 
the known weaknesses of certain candidates, grades may be 
arbitrarily given without reference to performance in examina¬ 
tions, records may be falsified or tampered with, and persona¬ 
tion and other forms of fraud and cheating connived at. 

But the examination problem involves some perplexing 
questions, even when the civil service commission endeavors 
to administer the law in strict keeping with its spirit and pur¬ 
pose. Selective tests have both a negative and a positive 
purpose. The negative purpose is accomplished if they are 
so designed and administered as to afford adequate protection 
against the demoralization of the civil service by the recurrent 
raids of political spoilsmen; but the positive purpose is not 
accomplished unless and until the selective tests operate in such 
a way as to recruit for the service of the city the persons best 
qualified by temperament, personality, education, training, ex¬ 
perience, physical ability, and moral character to perform the 
manifold tasks of municipal administration. In other words, 
instead of being merely rejective, the tests used should be truly 
and highly selective. 

Until recent years not much attention has been paid to the 
positive side of the examination problem. Examinations were 
conceived and administered as rough and ready means of weed¬ 
ing out the conspicuously unfit. Written examinations were 
largely academic in character, and physical examinations were 
designed merely to disclose the existence of organic defects. 
A candidate for the police force of New York City in 1900 


The problem 
of examina¬ 
tions 


Purposes and 
methods of 
civil service 
examina¬ 
tions 


The old type 
of examina¬ 
tion 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The new type 
of examina¬ 
tion 


204 

was required to be able to spell such words as naphtha, disso¬ 
lution, lustrous, raiment, and battle-axe; to solve simple prob¬ 
lems in addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division; to 
display a certain capacity for memorizing sentences; to show 
a certain knowledge of the geography of the city and the rules 
and regulations of the department; and to pass a physical 
examination which would show the extent of his muscular 
development and reveal his most potent physical defects. It 
was not a very stiff examination, but it was sufficient to 
exclude cripples, weaklings, illiterates, and blockheads. 

That type of examination is no longer considered adequate. 
It may be important for a policeman to know how to spell and 
figure, to be able to memorize verbal formulas, to know some¬ 
thing about the layout of the city and the rules of the de¬ 
partment, and to have a strong and sound physique; but it is 
more important that he should be a person of highly developed 
self-control and presence of mind, of good common-sense and 
well-trained faculty of observation, and of considerable ath¬ 
letic ability. These latter qualifications are not revealed or 
measured by the old type of formal examination, and the same 
thing is true not only of police examinations but of the older 
methods of examinations as applied to all branches of the 
civil service. There are important qualifications for practically 
every job on the city payroll that cannot be discovered by 
examinations which stress literacy, information, and physical 
soundness. Progressive civil service departments are therefore 
resorting to various expedients to supplement, if not displace, 
the older methods of examination. Some civil service com¬ 
missions place great reliance upon so-called practical examina¬ 
tions, which require the candidate to perform practical tasks 
or answer questions of technical character. Oral examina¬ 
tions are also being widely used, it being felt that oral examina¬ 
tions are particularly helpful in throwing light upon the 
candidate’s personality and other intangible characteristics. 
Physical examinations are being supplemented by athletic tests 
and various other expedients for determining mental and 
muscular coordination. And a few civil service commissions 
are experimenting with psychiatric tests, intelligence tests, and 
various other contributions of modern psychology to the science 
of mental measurement and character determination. All 
these newer forms of examination have their limitations, and 
many of them have not been sufficiently used for their value 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 


205 

to be fully known; but the fact that their need is felt is an 
indication of the inadequacy of the older system of examina¬ 
tions and of the complexity of the problem of devising exam¬ 
inations that will really disclose the most important qualifica¬ 
tions and disqualifications of the candidate. 

Character examination is of paramount importance in the 
problem of selection. In the past this has been a very per¬ 
functory matter, and in many places it still is. The appli¬ 
cant is required to give references who will vouch for his char¬ 
acter. Naturally he names as references persons who will, 
he thinks, say good things about him and give him the benefit 
of every doubt. The examination rarely goes beyond these 
references, and sometimes the examiners do not even take the 
trouble to communicate with the references submitted. But 
character is too important a thing to be passed over in such 
a superficial way. Many persons have the mental and physical 
ability to make excellent public servants, but not the moral 
fiber to stand the strain of trust and responsibility. The only 
way to sift out this undesirable material is to follow the 
practice of modern business institutions and conduct an ex¬ 
haustive character investigation as a prelude to appointment. 
Such an investigation involves not merely the consultation of 
references supplied by the applicant, but an inquiry into his 
employment history and social relations extending back many 
years. 

Of course it is impossible to perfect a system of examinations 
that will preclude all mistakes. All things human have a mar¬ 
gin of error. For this reason civil service laws commonly 
provide for probationary appointments for a period of six 
months or a year after the candidate has successfully negoti¬ 
ated the examination. This affords an additional opportunity 
to sift out the unfit. If full advantage were taken of this 
opportunity, the probationary period would be an exceedingly 
valuable means of testing the abilities of the man on the job. 
As it works, however, in all too many cases the probationer 
whose chief sin is inefficiency and who commits no flagrant 
violations of rules will survive the probationary period without 
difficulty and secure a permanent appointment. To make 
proper use of the probationary period the commission should 
not only keep the probationer under close observation but 
should subject him to frequent tests to determine his mastery 
of the job and should compile a detailed record of his per- 


Character 

examina¬ 

tion 


The pro¬ 
bation period 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Training for 
public serv¬ 
ice 


The impor¬ 
tance of em¬ 
ployment 
management 


206 

formance. On the basis of his showing under this searching 
scrutiny his permanent appointment should be determined. 

The question of provisional appointments naturally sug¬ 
gests the need of training for public service. Some kinds of 
municipal service cannot be properly prepared for in non¬ 
official life, and in all branches of public service some degree 
of special education and training in advance of appointment 
would be advantageous. In the case of the police and fire 
departments the need for special training is so obvious and so 
urgent that virtually all the larger cities have established train¬ 
ing schools for policemen and firemen, and require all candi¬ 
dates to pass the work given in these schools before permanent 
appointment. It is not practicable, however, to maintain such 
special schools for all branches of the city service, although 
the need exists. From the standpoint of educational adminis¬ 
tration and curriculum-building there is no sound reason why 
training for municipal service could not be provided through 
the public school system. It would not be difficult or particu¬ 
larly expensive to offer courses in public high schools and 
colleges in direct preparation for municipal service. But 
municipal service in the United States offers so precarious 
and limited a career that there is no real demand for such 
education and no justification in spending public money on it. 
If the time ever comes when a young person entering munici¬ 
pal service can look forward to progressive advancement which 
will open up to him not only the best jobs in the civil service 
of his own city but in the administrative services of the major 
cities of the country, there will be no difficulty in getting the 
schools to provide special training for public service. The 
schools will be quite unable to resist the demand. 

Careful and scientific selection of employees does not 
necessarily insure efficient administration. Political inter¬ 
ference, discontent and dissatisfaction on account of compensa¬ 
tion or other working arrangements, laxity of discipline, and 
similar conditions resulting from defective management may 
destroy the morale and impair the efficiency of the best body of 
employees that scientific selection can produce. Nor can 
these matters be anticipated and guarded against by detailed 
provisions in the civil service law. So much depends upon 
imponderable factors and changing conditions that the solu¬ 
tion of these difficulties must be left largely to the civil service 
commission to be worked out through its rule-making power. 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 


207 

Take, for example, such an apparently simple matter as 
promotions. Political or personal favoritism or any other 
manifestly unfair method of making promotions may utterly 
wreck the morale of the administrative personnel. But how 
can such a result be avoided? If promotions are made on the 
basis of seniority alone, as is not infrequently the rule, it is 
not efficiency that is rewarded so much as it is longevity, pa¬ 
tient waiting for one’s turn, and perhaps inability to get a 
better job elsewhere. But seniority cannot be entirely ignored, 
because there is a strong feeling among all classes of em¬ 
ployees, whether in private or public service, that length of 
service should be rewarded for its own sake. If promotions 
are made on the basis of special examinations to determine 
fitness, as is done very often in connection with technical 
employment, the appropriateness and fairness of the examina¬ 
tion are always open to question, and there is the further 
objection that the promotion may be made without taking 
account of the past records of the employees concerned. If 
promotions are made on recommendation of superior officers, 
complaints will always be heard to the effect that preference 
is given to personal or political “ pets.” And, finally, if pro¬ 
motions are made on the basis of efficiency records and ratings, 
it is invariably said that these are not fairly compiled and would 
be no indication of fitness for promotion if they were. 

Good practice in promotional procedure favors a combina¬ 
tion of these bases of promotion. Candidates for promotion 
are rated on the scale of 100, and certain weights—15, 20, 
25, 20, 15, 5, for example — are allowed for each of the recog¬ 
nized factors. The composite grade, on which promotion is 
based, represents superiority not in a single particular, but in 
several, and thus tends to disarm criticism. 

Discipline is another problem of importance in civil service 
administration. Employees in the classified service enjoy 
permanent tenure, and are protected against removal or any 
less severe form of discipline on political grounds. The civil 
service laws permit discipline’s going even to the extreme of 
removal if good cause be shown and provided that the employee 
be given an opportunity to defend himself against the charges 
made. Curiously enough, it is precisely this attempt to recon¬ 
cile effective discipline with adequate security that gives rise 
to most of the trouble. Give the executive heads complete 
freedom in administering discipline, and there is no assurance 


Promotions 


Sound pro¬ 
motional 
procedure 


Discipline 


208 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Examples of 
lax disciplin¬ 
ary pro¬ 
cedure 


that the power will not be abused for political ends; give the 
classified employees complete freedom from the rigors of disci¬ 
pline, and they will descend to the lowest levels of indolence 
and sloth. Try to avoid both of these extremes by a compromise 
which allows the imposition of disciplining penalties for good 
and sufficient cause, and the disciplinary process is enveloped 
in reels of red tape. Provisional power of discipline is all that 
can be given to executive heads; they can suspend, demote, 
transfer, fine, curtail privileges, etc., subject to confirmation 
by some authority which must decide whether there was justi¬ 
fiable cause for the action. This power of review is generally 
given to the civil service commission. Disciplinary procedure 
thus takes the form of a judicial trial with all the attendant 
complications, technicalities, delays, and uncertainties. Such 
procedure cannot be very vigorous at best, and in the hands of 
an unscrupulous civil body it may be degraded into a carnival 
of political chicanery. The following cases, taken from the 
police records of one of the larger American cities during the 
last few years, vividly illustrate the dangers referred to in 
the preceding sentence: 

(1) W. B., patrolman. Dismissed by the director on July 22, 
1924, for conduct unbecoming to an officer. In the testimony be¬ 
fore the director W. B. admitted that he and another patrolman 
(W. C. W.) while in their car had picked up two young women on 
the street and, under the pretense of giving them protection against 
young men who were annoying them, and of taking them home, had 
taken them out into the country. The two police officers were 
charged with attempted rape. W. B. through his attorney appealed 
to the commission, which on August 4, 1924, affirmed the decision 
of the director. But in July 1925, nearly a year later, on request 
of his attorney, the case was reopened, and without any additional 
evidence, the commission voted to reverse its action, set aside the 
decision of the director, and ordered W. B. reinstated to his position 
as patrolman. 

(2) J. P., patrolman. Dismissed by the director on May 2, 1924, 
for wilful disobedience of orders of superior officer, and intoxication 
while on duty and in uniform. His record in the department is un¬ 
usually bad. He has been up on charges eleven times before, for 
assaulting prisoners, making false reports, failing to appear in court, 
taking raided liquor, trying to collect fees, assaulting a citizen, etc. 
He appealed through his attorney to the civil service commission, 
which on May 26, 1924, sustained the director. J. P., through his 
attorney later appealed to the commission which reversed its deci- 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 


209 

sion of May, 1924, and reinstated J. P. to his position as of 
February 1, 1925. 

Since that date J. P. has again been suspended for sleeping while 
on duty, was fined all of his vacations until May 1, 1926, suspended 
without pay for eight days, transferred, and compelled to file a writ¬ 
ten resignation to take effect if he violated any rules up to May 1, 
1926. 

(3) J. M. K., patrolman. Dismissed by director on Feb. 3, 1925, 
for intoxication while on duty and in uniform. His previous record 
showed six previous charges against him; neglect of duty, intoxica¬ 
tion, making false reports, absence from post of duty, and other 
violations of the rules of the department. K. appealed to the civil 
service commission which, on Feb. 4, 1925, reversed the decision of 
the director, suspended K. for twelve days, and ordered him rein¬ 
stated to his position as patrolman. 

(4) A. J. C., patrolman. Dismissed by director on March 21, 
1925, for intoxication while on duty and in uniform. His previous 
record showed eight previous charges against him: permitting pris¬ 
oner to escape, making false report, assaulting prisoner, intoxication, 
absence from post of duty, and other violations. C. appealed to the 
commission which, on April 6, 1925, found him guilty but reinstated 
him to his position as patrolman. 

The remedy? There is really none to suggest. “ Disci¬ 
pline . . . involves a delicate balance between unrestricted 
executive authority and impregnable safeguards to employees. 
Both extremes are dangerous, the latter quite as much as the 
former. Perhaps the chief hope of betterment lies in the fact 
that the extension of the merit system to the higher positions 
in the service will make the former less dangerous and the latter 
less necessary.” 2 It is possible of course to have executives 
who may be entrusted with unrestrained disciplinary authority, 
and likewise to have civil service commissions that will not 
abuse the power of review, but these things will not be possible 
so long as the people are willing to tolerate and condone politics 
in administration. 

Of late years service records and ratings have received con¬ 
siderable attention from students of personnel administration. 
Service records may be of great value in connection with ques¬ 
tions of promotion, discipline, and compensation. Nothing 
can better testify to an employee’s fitness for promotion, his 
right to a salary increase, or his deserts as to discipline than 
the record of his behavior and efficiency while in the service, 
2 Maxey, An Outline of Municipal Government, p. 109. 




Records and 
ratings 


210 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The com¬ 
pensation 
problem 


provided it is a complete record emphasizing both credits and 
demerits. This is not the place to discuss the technicalities of 
service rating; but it may be pointed out in passing that the 
purpose of keeping a record of an employee’s service and of 
attempting to rate him as compared to other employees is to 
accumulate a body of more or less objective information about 
him, which may be used as a basis for administering rewards 
and punishments. Of what, then, should such a record con¬ 
sist? The civil service commission of New York City has 
evolved a system which is admirable in many respects. This 
system recognizes five factors in rating employees: (i) quan¬ 
tity of work, (2) quality of work, (3) personality, (4) un¬ 
excused tardiness or absence, and (5) misconduct. Of these 
factors the first three are taken as the basis for positive 
rating, a weight of 44 per cent being given for quantity of 
work, 44 per cent likewise for quality, and 12 per cent for 
personality. Normal performance, however, is placed some¬ 
what below these maximum weights, being 35 per cent in the 
cases of quantity and quality and 10 per cent in the case 
of personality. The rating of each employee is expressed 
in percentages on the scale of 100 by adding together the em¬ 
ployee’s score for each of the three factors described above. 
Deductions of not less than 1 per cent and not more than 10 
per cent may be made for each act of’misconduct or for each 
case of unexcused tardiness or absence. 

From the standpoint of both taxpayers and employees no 
other problem in personnel management approaches in im¬ 
portance that of compensation. The taxpayer does not favor 
overgenerous salaries for municipal functionaries, and with 
reason. Fully half, and sometimes more, of the city’s annual 
expenditures goes for the compensation of employees. But 
no intelligent taxpayer wants to sacrifice indispensable services 
on the altar of economy. He is willing to pay what is necessary 
and fair to procure the desired service, but wants to be sure 
he is not paying more than that. The employee’s concern 
about the compensation question is also self centered. Like 
all human beings he wants as much as he can get, but he is 
primarily interested in two things: (1) a decent living wage, 
and (2) a wage that is fair as compared with what others are 
getting for the same work. But there is no necessary antag¬ 
onism between the interests of the taxpayer and the employee, 
diverse though they may be. It is quite probable, in fact, that 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 


2 11 


they could readily agree upon the principles which should 
govern the compensation of municipal employees. 

In the first place they would agree upon the principle of a 
living wage, and this should be determined not merely by the 
cost of subsistence but by the standard of living required. All 
municipal employees are entitled to compensation enough to 
make adequate provision for the necessities; but a depart¬ 
ment head obviously must have more than a day laborer, be¬ 
cause the standard of living required of him is such that his 
necessities are greater. It is quite probable, in the second 
place, that both taxpayer and employee would agree that in 
adjusting rates of compensation above the minimum required 
for a living wage the following factors should govern: (i) the 
nature of the work, (2) the rates paid by private employers, 
and by other cities for similar work, (3) and the rates paid 
for similar work in other branches and departments of the 
same city. 

It is obvious that work which calls for extensive education, 
technical training, and experience must be compensated at 
higher rates than work that can be done by an untrained and 
inexperienced person, and also that work of an especially 
hazardous or arduous character must be favored over less 
difficult work. It is likewise clear that the rates paid in public 
service must approximate the rates paid in private employment 
for the same or similar work; otherwise the city will not be 
able to hold its most valuable employees. This does not mean 
that the city must compete with private employers by offering 
equal or better compensation; there are generally certain 
advantages in the permanent civil service — security, con¬ 
tinuity of employment, absence of high-pressure methods — 
which offset the higher pay in private employment and war¬ 
rant the city in offering somewhat less than private employers 
are obliged to pay. It is also necessary to take some account 
of what other cities are doing, for, although there is not a 
great deal of competition between cities in employment mat¬ 
ters, striking discrepancies between different cities of the 
same rank in rates of compensation for the same work often 
breed discontent. The third controlling factor, as outlined 
above, is that similar work should be similarly compensated 
in all branches of the city government. There is no justifica¬ 
tion in paying stenographers more or less in one office or 
department than in another, and the same is true of all other 


The rate of 
compensation 


Controlling 
factors in 
fixing rates 
of compen¬ 
sation 


212 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Examples of 
bad practice 
in compen¬ 
sation 


Standard¬ 
ization the 
remedy 


classes of employees. The same work should receive the 
same pay wherever it may be done. 

With general acceptance of these simple, equitable, and easily 
applicable principles of compensation, it would seem that there 
should be no compensation problem at all. But there is, and in 
most cities it is very complicated. City councils create jobs, 
define their duties, and fix rates of compensation either in igno¬ 
rance or disregard of these principles. Grotesque and palpably 
unjust anomalies are not only permitted but actually encour¬ 
aged. Organized labor is sometimes allowed to intimidate the 
council into raising the compensation of unionized employees 
above the non-union employees who are doing more difficult 
and more valuable work. Employees in politically controlled 
offices are generally favored as compared with employees doing 
the same kind of work in offices in the classified service. Ex¬ 
empt positions are dealt with more generously than competi¬ 
tive positions. Salary schedules are fixed according to the po¬ 
litical strength of the employees concerned. Unnecessary jobs 
and excessive rates of compensation are mutiplied as political 
exigencies dictate. A survey of compensation conditions in the 
city of Newark, New Jersey, a few years ago brought out the 
following facts: cuspidor cleaners were paid $1200 a year, 
nurses $900; elevator attendants received $1200 a year, hy¬ 
giene teachers $900; window cleaners got $1200 a year, rodmen 
$1104; clerks in the department of public affairs were paid 
from $924 to $2200 a year, in the department of parks from 
$1100 to $2100, in the city clerk’s office from $2100 to $3500, 
in the water bureau from $12,12 to $1800; the range of average 
salary increase was from 18.5% in the department of revenue 
and finance to 32.6% in the department of public safety; clerks 
were given the title of draftsmen and paid the draftsmen’s sal¬ 
ary for clerical work. Newark has not been selected as a hor¬ 
rible example. The conditions found there were not unusually 
bad but typical of conditions as they exist in practically every 
large city. 

The remedy for these and all similar conditions lies in the 
adoption of a comprehensive and scientific compensation pro¬ 
gram bottomed upon complete and consistent standardization 
of jobs and compensation rates. It is unfortunate that stand¬ 
ardization's have seen fit to clothe their ideas in techni¬ 
cal verbiage which has so obscured the meaning of the stand¬ 
ardization movement that it has not caught the popular 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 213 

ear. The general procedure of standardization is substantially 
as follows: 

1. A careful analysis of every job in the administrative serv¬ 
ice is made to ascertain the real character of its duties. 

2. All jobs of like character are grouped together for com¬ 
pensation purposes. 

3. A careful study of rates of compensation is made for the 
purpose of arriving at scientific conclusions as to the rates 
which should prevail for each distinct kind of service or type 
of job. 

4. On the basis of the foregoing studies there is developed a 
standard classification of jobs and compensation rates to be 
followed in all branches and departments of the city adminis¬ 
tration. By such a classification all clerical jobs are classed to¬ 
gether, all professional jobs, all engineering jobs, all custodial 
jobs, all skilled trades, all common labor, and so on throughout 
the entire service. In each class various sub-classes are recog¬ 
nized as differences appear in the nature of the work. To illus¬ 
trate, in the clerical service there might be an arrangement 
like this: 

Clerical service (class) 

Office assistant (group) 

Errand boy (grade) 

Senior (rank) 

Junior (rank) 

Telephone operator (grade) 

Senior (rank) 

Junior (rank) 

Typist (group) 

Copyist (grade) 

Senior (rank) 

Junior (rank) 

Mimeograph operator (grade) 

Senior (rank) 

Junior (rank) 

Stenographer (group) 

General (grade) 

Senior (rank) 

Junior (rank) 


An illustra¬ 
tion 


214 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The problem 
oi retire¬ 
ment 


Private secretary (grade) 

Senior (rank) 

Junior (rank) 

Bookkeeper (group) 

General (grade) 

Senior (rank) 

Junior (rank) 

Cashier 

Special accountant 

Following this classification a standard scale of salaries based 
upon work values could be evolved. A junior copyist, let us say, 
would be given a salary range of $800 to $1200 a year. That 
would mean that junior copyists in every office in the city gov¬ 
ernment would start at $800 a year and might in course of time 
be advanced to $1200 a year. But beyond $1200 no junior 
typist could go. To get a further increase in salary promotion 
would be necessary to a higher rank, grade, or group. The 
same principles would apply throughout the entire clerical class 
and throughout all other classes of service. 

Such standardization of employments and salaries does not 
constitute a positive guarantee of equitable and economical 
compensation arrangements, but it is certainly an invaluable 
means to that end. Furthermore, as can be readily observed, 
such classification is useful in adjusting salary increases on a 
sound and fair basis, in regulating promotions, and in admin¬ 
istering discipline. 

Getting employees out of the municipal service when they 
have outlived their usefulness is as important as getting them 
into the service on the basis of merit. In a city where the 
writer was making a personnel survey a few years ago one of 
the department heads pointed to a group of elderly men and 
said, “ Do you see those old fellows over in the corner? They 
are my stamp-lickers.” Upon inquiry it developed that they 
were classified employees of long and faithful service, but were 
incapacitated by age and illness for anything but the very 
lightest work. Hence they were assigned to the duty of lick¬ 
ing stamps and envelopes although, on account of their senior¬ 
ity, they were drawing the highest salaries in the office. They 
could not be dismissed, for there were no charges against them 
but old age and misfortune; and they could not be retired on 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 215 

pension because the civil service laws made no provision for 
such action. 

Conditions such as this have induced cities to put into opera¬ 
tion plans for the regular and systematic retirement of inca¬ 
pacitated employees on pension. At first these retirement 
systems applied only to policemen, firemen, and school teach¬ 
ers; but they are now being extended to cover all municipal 
employees. They all operate on the theory that employees 
should not only be permitted, but should be compelled, to retire 
on pension when they are physically or mentally incapacitated 
by accident, illness, or old age. 

Retirement on account of age is generally obligatory at the 
age of sixty-five, or thereabouts. Some cities retire employees 
after a given period, usually twenty-five or thirty years, of serv¬ 
ice. This is inadvisable, because it permits persons who enter 
the service young to retire on pension in the prime of life. Re¬ 
tirement for incapacity before reaching the age limit should be 
allowed only when the most careful medical examination pos¬ 
sible has demonstrated the employee’s unfitness for service. 
Even then retirement should be provisional, and if the employee 
recovers his health, he should be compelled to return to work. 

The most complex feature of all retirement systems is the 
pension plan. Three general schemes of providing pensions 
have been tried. In the non-contributing plan, as it is com¬ 
monly called, the municipality bears all the expenses. The 
sums needed for pensions are provided from year to year by 
current appropriations. In the partial contributory plan pen¬ 
sion payments are made from a fund accumulated by small 
monthly contributions from the employees plus municipal rev¬ 
enues provided by fees, fines, licenses, and sometimes special 
tax levies. In the straight contributory plan a pension fund is 
accumulated by contributions from the city treasury and the 
employees, usually on a fifty-fifty basis. The contributions of 
the employees are deducted from their salaries, and the city 
matches this sum by regular appropriations from the treasury. 
The non-contributory and partial contributory plans are now 
quite generally discredited, because experience has shown that 
they are difficult to administer successfully, inequitable in their 
distribution of burdens, and uncertain in their production of 
revenues. 

The supremely important thing in any pension plan is to 
build up and maintain a fund which will be at all times suffi- 


Retirement 

plans 


Pension 

plans 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The necessity 
of actuarial 
soundness 


Private in¬ 
surance com¬ 
panies en¬ 
tering muni¬ 
cipal field 


Civil service 
in European 
cities 


2l6 

dent to meet the payments called for by the progressive retire¬ 
ment of employees under the provisions of the law. This can 
only be done by placing the pension funds upon a strict actu¬ 
arial basis just as insurance reserves are handled. A careful 
actuarial study will show exactly what increments the pension 
funds must receive to insure the payments promised by law to 
retired employees, and it is the duty of the city to see that such 
increments are made. Under the straight contributory plan 
it is easy to calculate the necessary rate of contribution for both 
parties, and the revenues of the fund are absolutely certain, 
because the city is bound by contract to match the sum which 
it deducts from the salaries of the employees. 

Private insurance companies are now beginning to develop 
plans by which they hope to be able to relieve municipalities 
of the burden of administering their own pension systems. The 
gist of these plans is that the company contracts with the city 
to insure the employees of the city on a group plan, providing 
death benefits, sick and accident benefits, and old age protec¬ 
tion. The city guarantees the premiums, but as a rule follows 
the contributory plan of raising the necessary sums. Some 
fifteen or twenty cities have now entered into such contracts 
for all or part of their employees. The plan is still in its in¬ 
fancy, but seems very promising. 

In concluding this subject it may be well to say a few words 
about the civil service procedure of European cities. As a 
matter of law there is no such thing as the merit system in 
English cities. The city council is perfectly free to make ap¬ 
pointments on any basis it may see fit, and to make removals 
in a like manner. But as a matter of custom, appointments are 
generally made on the basis of technical fitness and the incum¬ 
bent is unmolested in his position during good behavior. In 
France a system of municipal civil service was inaugurated by 
act of parliament in 1919. This law requires civil service com¬ 
petitions in all communes having a population of more than 
5,000. All employees, unless their appointment is otherwise 
provided for by law or decree, must be chosen by competitive 
examination. The examining board consists of the mayor, two 
members of the council named by the council, the secretary of 
the commune, and either the head or some other high official of 
the department in which the vacancy occurs. The law also 
provides for a special board to deal regularly with promotions, 
and another to deal with disciplinary matters. German cities 


THE ADMINISTRATION PROBLEM 217 

do not have a system of competitive civil service tests for the 
subordinate administrative service, but the municipal code pre¬ 
scribes certain qualifying examinations prior to appointment. 
The appointments are made by the administrative board of the 
city on a permanent basis, and all questions of disciplinary 
character are disposed of under state laws and administrative 
decrees. 

Selected References 

W. Anderson, American City Government, Chaps. XVII XVIII 
XIX. 

F. J. Goodnow, Politics and Administration, passim. 

A. C. Hanford, Problems in Municipal Government, Chap. XIII; 
also pp. 179-187. 

C. C. Maxey, Readings in Municipal Government, Chap. V. 

W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. II, 
Chaps. XXIII, XXIV, XXV. 

T. H. Reed, Municipal Government in the United States, Chap. 

XVII. 

L. D. Upson, The Practice of Municipal Administration, Chaps. I, 

III. 

J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chaps. 
XXIII, XXIV, XXV. 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. It is proposed in amending the charter of the city of X to have 
the city clerk elected by popular vote instead of appointed by the 
mayor. Would you favor or oppose such a change? Would your 
opinion be different if the proposal were to have the city clerk 
chosen by the council instead of by the mayor? 

2. Can the vertical and horizontal classification of functions be 
applied to a factory, a department store, a church, or other non¬ 
governmental institution? Illustrate. 

3. Outline what you would consider to be ideal organization for a 
body responsible for administering the civil service laws of the city. 
What powers would you give this body? 

4. State what you would consider proper examination procedure 
for city playground supervisors. Do the same for any other munici¬ 
pal position in which you may be interested, one that you might like 
to have yourself. 

5. Should a municipal employee guilty of intoxication while off 
duty be disciplined for his conduct? What sort of disciplinary pro¬ 
cedure, if any, would you suggest for such a case? What sort of 
discipline would you recommend for an employee guilty of intoxi¬ 
cation while on duty? What for the offense of insubordination? 


CHAPTER XVII 

SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 


Every man is at times a menace to himself and to others. 
Thoughtlessly, carelessly, ignorantly, and sometimes delib¬ 
erately and even maliciously, he does things which are ruinous 
to the security of person and property. Social intercourse 
The hazards is, therefore, fraught with such danger to life and limb and 
of city life worldly possessions that it becomes necessary in all forms of 
human society to curb individual freedom and police the 
body politic. In city life this need reaches the maximum. 
When great multitudes of human beings are crowded together 
like bees in a hive, their numerous and necessary contacts 
multiply so tremendously the perils of social intercourse 
that the preservation of safety, the promotion of order, and 
the administration of justice are the most necessary functions 
of city government. 

Crime is one of the greatest hazards of urban society. The 
city offers more incentive to crime than the country, more 
opportunity to engage in criminal occupations, and more chance 
to profit from criminal enterprises. For these reasons the 
urbanite, living constantly under the menace of crime, 
looks to the government of his city for protection. The 
constant friction of city life is a breeder of disorder, and 
there is an ever-present danger of riotous disturbances 
The crime which does not exist in rustic society. This danger, like the 
danger of crime, must be counteracted by the zealous endeavors 
of the city government. Vice constitutes another peril to the 
security of urban life. In a rural society, gambling, prostitu¬ 
tion, drunkenness, and most other forms of vice do not or¬ 
dinarily constitute an immediate danger to persons not 
participating in them; but the crowded conditions of city life 
make it next to impossible for vice to flourish without creating 
serious hazards for the whole community. Vice excites dis¬ 
order, fosters crime, and demoralizes all social relations. So 
the city government must undertake to protect the people 
against the ravages of vice. 


218 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 


Cities are man-built places, and man does not build infal¬ 
libly. Practically every structure that man has ever been 
able to devise is susceptible in some degree to the red menace 
of fire. The danger of fire in cities is increased many fold 
by the congestion of population and the resulting accumulation 
of things combustible in the industrial and commercial proc¬ 
esses of urban life. The city government must, therefore, 
assume the burden of combatting the fire menace. But the 
man-made structures of the city are pregnant with many dan¬ 
gers besides fire. Nearly all are equipped with potentially 
dangerous machinery — elevators, steam-boilers, electrical ap¬ 
paratus, and the like — which, unless safely constructed and 
properly operated, may cause enormous damage to person and 
property. The city government must guard the people against 
these dangers, and also against the far more hidden and un¬ 
foreseen danger of weak or improper construction of buildings. 
When a ten-story office building collapsed in Prague, Czecho¬ 
slovakia, in October, 1928, killing and maiming scores of peo¬ 
ple, the very first question raised was the responsibility of the 
municipal authorities in allowing the building to be con¬ 
structed as it was. The same thing was true of the disaster 
in Washington, D. C., a few years ago, caused by the collapse 
of the roof of a huge theater. 

The streets of the city are also beset with perils. Traffic 
accidents claim hundreds of victims daily. Building opera¬ 
tions are a constant threat to the safety of persons in the 
streets below. The streets carry sewer lines, water and gas 
pipes, electric conduits, trolley and light wires, street car 
tracks, and sometimes have subways beneath the surface and 
elevated railroads overhead. Without proper safeguard, all 
these uses of streets are laden with danger, and it is of course 
the business of the city government to see that safeguards are 
provided. 

We might continue endlessly with this enumeration of haz¬ 
ards of city life; but it is unnecessary. Enough has been said 
in the brief summary already given to show that safety of per¬ 
son and property is one of the major problems of city govern¬ 
ment. Legislation designed to promote public safety mounts 
up to dozens of portly tomes, including such things as building 
laws, fire-prevention laws, traffic laws, vice-restriction laws, 
laws regulating the construction and operation of public util¬ 
ities, and criminal laws almost without number. To enforce 


The structure 
hazard 


The street 
hazard 


Govern¬ 
mental ac¬ 
tion in the 
interest of 
public safety 


220 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The police 
department 
is the princi¬ 
pal agency of 
the city for 
the pro¬ 
motion of 
safety. 


The internal 
problems of 
police ad¬ 
ministration 


these many laws the city must have an elaborate system of ad¬ 
ministrative machinery. Every city has its police department 
and fire department, and most of the larger cities have special 
agencies for the enforcement of building laws and other types 
of safety legislation. The police and fire departments in many 
cities are separately organized and directed, but there is com¬ 
ing to be a tendency, for the sake of better coordination, to or¬ 
ganize these two services as divisions or bureaus of a single 
department of public safety. Only the larger cities have 
special departments dealing with buildings and safety engi¬ 
neering, but in all cities there are officials (attached usually 
to the department of public works, the office of city engineer, 
or some other agency whose work is mainly technical) who 
are charged with building inspection, electrical inspection, 
plumbing inspection, steam-boiler inspection, elevator inspec¬ 
tion, and various other investigational and regulative activities 
having to do with public safety. 

The stormy petrel of public safety administration, in fact of 
all municipal administration, is the police force of the city. 
The work of the police is enormously provocative of political 
controversy. The police deal directly with crime, vice, street 
traffic, and public disturbances of all sorts. If there is a 
traffic jam, the police are blamed; if there is a serious traffic 
accident, the police must conduct the investigation and perhaps 
share the responsibility; if there is a riot or disturbance in 
connection with a strike or a sporting event, the police must 
take the situation in hand; if there is a payroll robbery or a 
bank holdup, the police must go into action; if street soliciting 
becomes prevalent, the police must curb it; if bootlegging 
flourishes, the police must combat it; if two pushcart peddlers 
resort to fisticuffs, or two fishwives pull hair, the police must 
stop the rumpus. The police touch urban life at almost every 
point, encounter trouble in almost every form; no wonder, 
then, that police administration is fraught with difficulties and 
controversies. 

Police problems may be classified as internal and external. 
The former have to do with the internal management and di¬ 
rection of the police force, the latter with the actual execution 
of police functions. The internal problems of police adminis¬ 
tration are not spectacular and seldom attract attention out¬ 
side the ranks of specialists in municipal administration, but 
they are on the whole more fundamental than the external 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 2 2l 

problems. It may not seem to the apathetic public to make 
a great deal of difference whether the police force is headed by 
a single executive official or by a board; but it does — it makes 
all the difference between a vigorous and efficient police de¬ 
partment and a feeble and inefficient one. Experience amply 
supports the thesis that a board is not an appropriate instru¬ 
ment for police administration. Boards lack the celerity 
of decision and promptness of action that are indispensable 
in a semi-military organization like the police force; they are 
susceptible to dissensions and disruptions of a personal and 
political nature, and are unable to maintain the immediate 
and constant contact with the daily routine of the department 
which is essential to informed and effective administration. 
Although there are still a few important cities with police 
boards, that system of administration is on the road to extinc¬ 
tion. The single executive system has proved its superiority 
so convincingly that the board system has few champions left. 

Assuming that the headship of the police department is to 
be vested in a director or commissioner instead of a board, 
how should this official be chosen? Popular election throws 
the police department directly into politics; appointment by 
the joint action of the mayor and council is almost as bad; 
appointment by the mayor alone is somewhat less likely to 
result in a political choice; and appointment by examination 
under the merit system ties the hands of the responsible govern¬ 
ing officials of the city in dealing with emergencies that call 
for sweeping changes in the overhead direction of the police 
department. The method preferred in most American cities 
is appointment by the mayor, sometimes with and sometimes 
without councilmanic confirmation. In most of the manager 
cities the appointment is generally made by the city manager, 
but some of them reserve this appointment to the mayor. In 
commission-governed cities the commissioner of public safety 
is elected by popular vote, a fact which is generally recognized 
as one of the outstanding weaknesses of the commission system 
of government. The head of the police department in English 
cities is chosen by the city council; in French cities, by the 
president of the Republic; in German cities, by the municipal 
assembly or the administrative board, according to the status 
of the position. 

It would not be entirely accurate to remark that political 
considerations do not figure in the selection of the head of the 


1. Board vs 
single¬ 
headed 
direction 


2. Choice of 
the executive 
head 


222 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


3. Politics in 
the selection 
of police ex¬ 
ecutives 


4. Shall the 
executive 
head be 
chosen from 
the ranks of 
the police 
force? 


police department in European cities, but it is true that they 
count less heavily than ordinarily in American cities. It is 
not, however, the appointing process that makes the difference, 
but the different traditions and attitudes of the two continents 
as to police and police operations. In Europe the police are 
regarded as an adjunct if not as a direct branch of the military, 
and for that reason technical considerations are likely to pre¬ 
vail over political. In the United States the police force is 
regarded as basically a civilian organization, and hence we look 
upon political interference in police matters with greater 
equanimity than Europeans. Since no method of appointment 
can change the political habits of a people, it is not probable 
that we can obtain European results simply by adopting Eu¬ 
ropean methods of appointment. American authorities on 
police administration substantially agree that for American 
cities the best method of selection is for the head of the police 
department to be appointed by the chief executive of the city 
under safeguards that will clearly fix the responsibility for 
political appointments and removals when such are made. The 
simplest way to achieve this result is to place the head of the 
police department upon indeterminate tenure and at the same 
time give the chief executive complete power of appointment 
and removal. This will make it impossible for the chief execu¬ 
tive to make a change without assuming full responsibility 
for it, but will enable him to make changes easily when he is 
willing to shoulder the blame. 

The question sometimes arises as to the advisability of ele¬ 
vating an officer from the ranks of the police department to 
the position of director of public safety or commissioner of 
police. Promotion from the ranks is the common thing in 
Europe, but in the United States this practice has not been 
favored, although many cities have experimented with it. A 
man who rises from the ranks is usually encumbered by his 
past. Like all large organizations, police departments have 
their factional differences and personal intrigues, and no man 
can stay long on the force without being smudged by some 
of these affairs. Such a man, when he comes to the position 
of command, is gravely handicapped by enemies among his 
subordinates. Furthermore the training and experience of a 
police officer emphasize routine, red tape, and detail rather 
than open-mindedness and initiative; and Americans, not 
having the military conception of police functions, attach less 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 223 

importance to perfection in police punctilio than to energy, 
originality, and force of character. We normally prefer, there¬ 
fore, non-professional police executives. 

One of the complicating factors of police organization in 
many American cities is the existence of the uniformed office 
of chief of police alongside that of director or commissioner of 
police. The director or commissioner is designated as head 
of the department and the chief is his subordinate in direct com¬ 
mand of the police force. Beyond this the legal relations 
between the two are seldom clearly defined, and there is 
often an attempt to give the chief of police an independent 
sphere of authority by compelling the head of the department 
to transmit all orders to the line and to carry out all rules 
and regulations through the chief. Sometimes the law even 
goes so far as to give the chief of police complete and undis¬ 
puted control over the stationing, transferring, and day-to-day 
movement of all members of the police force. Since the chief 
is always a uniformed officer who has risen from the ranks, 
and the directing head usually is not, the anomalous relation 
which exists between them sometimes breaks out into open 
friction and discord. The office of chief of police is in reality 
a relic of the days of board administration, and should have 
been abolished or thoroughly modified upon the abandonment 
of that system. Where there is a single directing head of the 
police department, there is no need for a chief of police in the 
old sense of the term. What is needed is a technical aide or 
deputy to the police commissioner drawn from the uniformed 
ranks. There is no objection to labelling this functionary 
chief of police, if it will make him any happier, but the law 
should specifically define his duties so as to make him clearly 
a deputy. 

Below the office of chief the organization of the police 
force follows military models very closely. The city is divided 
into police precincts, each under the command of a captain. 
Under the captain are such a number of lieutenants and ser¬ 
geants as may be required by the size, population, and general 
nature of the precinct. Some of the larger cities have the office 
of inspector of police. The duties of inspector are not every¬ 
where the same. In some cases he is a sort of deputy chief 
of police with special functions; in other cases he has general 
oversight of a certain number of police precincts which have 
been organized into inspection districts. The captain is the 


5. Confu¬ 
sion of func¬ 
tional re¬ 
lationships 
between 
executive 
head and 
chief of 
police 


6. Organi¬ 
zation be¬ 
low the rank 
of chief 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


7. Recruit¬ 
ing and 
training 
policemen 


8. Modem 
police train¬ 
ing courses 


224 

pivot of police administration, for he is the commander of the 
forces in the field. The lieutenants attached to his precinct are 
his deputies and assume command as directed by him. The 
patrolmen in each precinct are usually organized into squads, 
and each of these is under the charge of a sergeant in super¬ 
vision of patrol. In each police department there are several 
special units which are not always organized along precinct 
lines. The most important of these are the detective bureau, 
the traffic bureau, the vice squad, and the signal bureau. 

The recruiting, training, and management of police personnel 
present formidable difficulties. The subject of personnel man¬ 
agement has been treated in Chapter XV, and to deal in detail 
with problems of police personnel would involve extensive 
repetition of topics discussed in that earlier chapter. The 
vital thing in recruiting policemen is to select the right sort 
of material at the outset. Practically all the larger cities have 
placed the police force in the classified service, and the entrance 
examinations (both physical and mental) are being made 
more scientifically selective all the time. Character selection 
is not as well done as physical and mental selection, but is being 
taken more seriously than formerly. Training for police 
service has been brought to a relatively high state of perfection 
in some of the larger cities; but the smaller cities, being 
unable to afford police training schools, still cling to the old 
apprentice method of instruction. The recruit is sent out on 
patrol in company with an older officer, is supplied with certain 
reading material, and is possibly given the benefit of discus¬ 
sions and instructions at the roll-call period. After a short 
period of this sort of training, he is supposed to be prepared 
for his job. He learns, of course, what the older officers know 
or condescend to teach him; but his training period is not 
long enough or his experience sufficiently diversified to equip 
him for efficient service. Moreover, a technique acquired from 
older officers is not very likely to be progressive and up to 
date. 

Modern police training schools offer a course of instruc¬ 
tion that thoroughly tests the mettle of the candidate before 
appointment. He must learn to swim, box, wrestle, shoot, oper¬ 
ate motor vehicles, and administer first aid; he is coached 
in report-writing, rules of evidence, court procedure, and 
practical civics; he is instructed with regard to the most 
important state and municipal legislation he will be called 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 225 

upon to enforce, and is drilled in the rules and regulations of the 
department; he is taught something of personal ethics and 
social service; and he is given some training in methods of 
criminal identification. The most ambitious course of police 
training is found in Berkeley, California, where by coopera¬ 
tion with the University of California a course of instruction 
is offered that includes physics, chemistry, physiology, anatomy, 
criminology, anthropology, criminal psychology, psychiatry, 
microbology, parasitology, and microanalysis. The average 
city can never offer such an elaborate instructional menu as 
this, but all the larger cities can maintain police schools capable 
of thorough instruction in the practical requisites of police 
work. The smaller cities cannot do this, and their only hope 
of pre-service training for police recruits would seem to be 
through cooperation with the larger municipalities. A city 
of fifty thousand might very profitably send its police re¬ 
cruits to a police training school in one of the big cities and 
pay expenses and tuition fees for their course of instruction. 

One further question of overhead control is to be considered 
before we are ready to discuss the actual administration of po¬ 
lice functions. This is the question of central vs. local control 
of police. In Europe local police have always been subject to 
a high degree of central control. In France the police are, for 
all practical purposes, a national organization. They are 
locally organized and supported, but are commanded by offi¬ 
cers who are appointed by and take their orders from Paris. 
The same thing was true of the police system of Germany be¬ 
fore the war, and is true in substance yet, although a few polite 
■bows have been made in the direction of local autonomy. Ex¬ 
cept for the police of metropolitan London, English police are 
under local control. But the central government by indirect 
means, such as subventions and inspections to determine 
whether subventions shall be granted, has actually obtained 
a large influence in local police administration. Central con¬ 
trol was once popular in the United States, but is now on the 
wane. In only three or four large cities in the United States 
are police departments under the command of officials appointed 
by the state government. 

The theoretical arguments for central control are unanswer¬ 
able, but so are the theoretical arguments for local control. 
That the police are just as much agents of the central govern¬ 
ment as of the local government is obviously true; that the 


9. Central 
VS. local con¬ 
trol of police 


226 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The external 
problems of 
police ad¬ 
ministration 


1. Foot 
patrol 


central government has a right and a duty to see that they 
are not derelict in the enforcement of general laws goes without 
question; that local politics may demoralize the police depart¬ 
ment to the extent that it becomes lax in its attitude toward 
general law is likewise beyond dispute; and, finally, no one 
will doubt that these conditions can be remedied by central 
control. On the other hand, it is as plain as daylight that 
the people of the city have just as much interest, perhaps even 
more, in the strict enforcement of law in the city as the central 
government, for they are the first to suffer from non-enforce¬ 
ment. It is similarly a fact that central control and the 
politics incident thereto have sometimes been the source 
of greater demoralization and corruption than local independ¬ 
ence. Furthermore, no one will deny that local responsibility 
is the basis of democracy and the key to self-government. 

What, then, is the answer? There is none that would satisfy 
a dogmatist. Equally numerous examples of both good and 
bad police administration can be found under both systems. 
We have tried central control in this country, and found it not 
suited to our conditions and not consistent with our traditions 
and usages. Europe, on the other hand, prefers central con¬ 
trol. It accords with European experience, and has in those 
compact and densely populated countries certain practical 
advantages which do not appear in spacious America. 

The primary and likewise the most engrossing task of the 
police department is to guard the people of the city against 
crime and disorder. For this purpose the police department 
is divided into two great branches, each having its distinctive 
functions and methods of procedure. These are the uniformed 
service and the plain-clothes or detective service. The uni¬ 
formed branch of the police force is primarily concerned with 
guarding the city by means of patrolling, and the detective 
branch is mainly concerned with investigational work. We 
shall deal first with the problem of patrol. 

The theory of patrol is much the same as that of guard duty 
in the military service. The city is divided into police pre¬ 
cincts, and these are in turn divided into patrol posts. Each 
patrol post, or “ beat,” is a route to be traversed by a patrol¬ 
man one or more times during his turn of duty. While he 
is on duty the patrolman is responsible for everything that 
occurs on his patrol post, and as he “ walks his beat ” it is his 
business to make careful observations and to be ready for all 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 227 

emergencies. The patrol posts are laid out so that every street 
and block of the city is contained in some patrol post, and 
hence, in theory, the whole city is protected by the regular 
diurnal and nocturnal perambulations of the patrolling force. 
A patrolman is always on duty on each post, and therefore the 
city is always fully protected. 

But it is not as simple as it seems. To insure real protec¬ 
tion, an officer should not be expected to patrol a larger area 
or a longer route than he can really keep under effective sur¬ 
veillance all the time. But no city can dream of putting that 
principle into operation. It would require such a huge force of 
patrolmen that the city could never stand the expense. Most 
cities do not pretend to lay patrol posts on any such principle; 
what they do undertake to do is to concentrate the patrolling 
force in the portions of the city where the crime hazard is 
thought to be high and to patrol the remainder of the city 
as adequately as possible with the small forces left available 
for such service. In retail, financial, and high-grade industrial 
sections of the city patrol posts will be small and easily kept 
under continuous observation, but in the outlying areas, and 
particularly in residential sections of the city, the patrol posts 
will be so extensive and the number of patrolmen so few 
that nothing better than nominal protection can possibly be 
expected. 

In these latter years police patrol has become a serious 
problem. The automobile and the trolley car have caused 
such a vast outspreading of population that foot patrol is be¬ 
coming an impossibility. The city lacks the financial resources 
that would be required to station enough patrolmen through¬ 
out the city to afford adequate protection; and even though this 
were not the case — if it were possible to multiply the number 
of patrolmen indefinitely—still foot patrol would be largely 
futile because of the inequality between a policeman on foot 
and a modem criminal equipped with the speediest motor 
vehicles available. Except for certain limited types of work 
foot patrol is obsolete, and is being rapidly succeeded by various 
forms of motor patrol. For reasons which will be discussed 
later, it cannot be said that motor patrol affords very extensive 
protection to the householder, but it does have two pronounced 
advantages ovet foot patrol: (1) it brings a policeman to the 
place of trouble more quickly than foot patrol, and (2) it facil¬ 
itates the pursuit of fleeing criminals. Motor patrol is also 


Weaknesses 
of the patrol 
system 


2. Motor 
patrol 


228 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The limita¬ 
tions of all 
types of 
patrol 


more economical than foot patrol, for it enables one man to 
patrol more territory than three or four men could patrol on 
foot. There are several systems of motor patrol. As a general 
rule the plan is to have patrolmen with automobiles or motor 
cycles cover a beat (greatly enlarged of course) in the orthodox 
way. Some cities have experimented with a combination of 
motor patrol and stationary patrol booths. The booth is 
equipped with telephone and is connected with the police 
signal system. The usual plan is to station a patrolman in the 
booth to answer telephone calls and to have one or more 
patrolmen with motor vehicles operating to and from the 
booth. This system has the advantage of insuring an imme¬ 
diate response to emergency calls, but it does not prevent 
crime any more effectively than any other system of patrol. 

The basic question, however, is not which type of patrol 
is preferable, but whether any system of patrol is suited to 
modern conditions. Patrol, whether by foot, horse, or motor 
vehicle, finds its justification in the hypothesis that the most 
effective way to combat crime and disorder is to have police¬ 
men constantly cruising the streets; the more perfect the 
cruising, the more complete the protection. Is this hypothesis 
sound? From the standpoint of prevention, it should be re¬ 
membered, there are two types of crime — crimes of impulse 
and crimes of premeditation. Crimes of impulse cannot be 
prevented by any system of policing. In the movies a police¬ 
man always turns up in time to prevent the enraged husband 
from beating his suspected spouse, but actual life is different. 
For a policeman to be on the spot when an unpremeditated 
crime of violence occurs is sheer coincidence. Most crimes 
of this character could not be prevented by stationing a po¬ 
liceman on every corner, for the persons who commit such 
crimes do not themselves know in advance what they are going 
to do. They act in response to sudden and overwhelming 
passion, and are not restrained by the fact that there is a po¬ 
liceman on the corner. Patrolling the city makes little differ¬ 
ence, therefore, in the number of impulsive crimes committed. 
The number would probably be no greater if there were no 
police patrol at all. 

With premeditated crimes the case is different. The perpe¬ 
trators of these crimes make plans in advance and assiduously 
strive to evade the police. The question then is whether 
the patrol system gives the advantage to the police or to the 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 229 

criminals. It seems in most cases to be with the latter. The 
uniformed police are easily watched; they pursue regular 
beats, and their habits are easily learned; they have not time 
to examine premises carefully, and hence must conduct most 
of their observations from the street. The criminal, knowing 
in advance the route and schedule of the patrolman, and mak¬ 
ing doubly sure by the use of “ lookouts,” is rarely endangered 
by the regular police patrol. In fact he likes to see the “ cops ” 
out on the beat; it gives him a sense of security and enables 
him to time his depredations accurately. The uniformed 
police on regular patrol do not cramp the style of the pro¬ 
fessional criminal very much, and they may, quite unwittingly, 
be of great assistance to him. It is the secret service that 
worries the professional criminal, for it is not easily watched 
and its activities cannot easily be anticipated. 

Every municipal police department has its detective force. 

Usually this is organized as a separate branch of the service 
under the command of a captain directly responsible to the 3 . secret 
chief of police. The conventional duties of detectives are to semce Wl 
conduct investigations and endeavor to apprehend the perpe¬ 
trators of crimes who have slipped through the hands of the 
uniformed police. For this reason the detective bureau is 
sometimes called the second line of defense. But as a matter 
of fact the detective bureau is often the first line of defense; 
for, as has been pointed out above, the uniformed force is not 
in position to offer an effective defense against deliberate crim¬ 
inal operations. The detective force, by reason of its use of 
civilian clothes and its freedom from the impeding and frus¬ 
trating routine of regular patrol duty, is able to cope with 
criminals on more equal terms than the uniformed force. 

When a crime is committed, the uniformed police usually make 
a perfunctory and preliminary investigation and then turn 
the matter over to the detective bureau, for “ sleuthing ” is the 
business of the detective. So it generally turns out that the 
real defense of the city is left in the hands of the detectives. 

But the detective force that is confined to purely defensive 
tactics fails to measure up to its full possibilities. The mili¬ 
tary maxim, that the best defense is offense, is certainly true 
in waging war against crime. Impulsive crime will occur in 
spite of preventive measures, but premeditated crime may be 
materially curtailed by scientific secret service work. An 
adequate force of properly trained and experienced detectives 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The need 
for better 
secret serv¬ 
ice work 


230 

would be so thoroughly familiar with the denizens of the 
underworld and their doings, would know the habits and 
haunts of criminals so well, would be so closely in touch with 
the movements and probable operations of suspected or known 
criminals, that they could stamp out organized crime almost 
altogether and effect a very great reduction in unorganized 
crime. By carrying the war to the enemy’s territory skilled 
detectives can anticipate many crimes and nip them in the 
bud, can intimidate known criminals and scare them out of the 
city, can break up gangs and clean up the breeding places 
of crime, and can round up most of the persons likely to be 
involved in a particular crime within a very short time after 
it occurs. 

Unfortunately, however, most cities do not have an adequate 
force of properly trained and experienced detectives. Because 
of the false sense of security which people enjoy when they 
see a uniformed policeman on the street, we have enlarged the 
uniformed forces and kept the detective bureau at minimum 
strength. We should get much more protection by cutting the 
uniformed force to an irreducible minimum and increasing the 
number of detectives to the maximum. But before doing this 
we need to reform our methods of selecting, training, and con¬ 
trolling detectives. In most cities detectives are recruited 
from the uniformed force. Transfer to the detective bureau 
is commonly regarded as a promotion because it means a 
higher rate of pay and release from the ardors of patrol. In 
some cases candidates for detective positions are required to 
pass a qualifying examination, but in most cities the chief 
of police is free to transfer policemen to and from the detective 
bureau at his discretion. In a few cities detectives are re¬ 
cruited directly from private life either by special examination 
or by direct appointment without examination. The recruiting 
of detectives from the uniformed force is open to much criti¬ 
cism. The training and the experience of a patrolman do not 
fit him particularly well for secret service, and in some re¬ 
spects they tend to disqualify him. As a patrolman he acquires 
the routine habit of mind and the bureaucratic lack of initia¬ 
tive which characterize the average policeman. Methodical, 
faithful, regular, almost mechanical — he is a good patrolman, 
but he will never make a good detective. And sometimes, un¬ 
fortunately, not the best but the poorest material in the uni¬ 
formed force is transferred to the detective bureau. Patrolmen 



SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 231 

are assigned to detective service not because of demonstrated 
ability along any line, but simply because of their standing 
with the reigning powers in the department or in the political 
life of the city. Such detectives are as a rule both mentally 
and morally inferior, and regard their jobs as sinecures. 

Recruitment of detectives from private life may be a good 
or bad policy, depending upon the method of selection. If 
the appointments are made on a purely personal or political 
basis, nothing could be worse. If the appointment is by exam¬ 
ination under the merit system, the result depends upon the 
nature of the examinations and the honesty with which they 
are administered. No system of examinations can demonstrate 
whether a man will make a good detective, but it is possible 
to find out whether he has a good physique, a sufficient edu¬ 
cation, a quick and alert mind, and a good character. With 
these qualities he may be trained to be an efficient detective. 
Training and experience are the big things in the making of a 
detective. To meet the modern criminal on his own ground 
the detective must be more than a shrewd fellow who always 
beats his man to the gun. He need not be a sleuthing genius 
like Sherlock Holmes, but he should be well grounded in crim¬ 
inology, criminal psychology, and criminal identification, and 
should have a good working knowledge of basic sciences, such 
as chemistry, physiology, and bacteriology. Weapons he should 
know and handle like an expert, and should of course be skilled 
in all the arts of defense. But these things merely furnish 
the foundation. The main thing is experience — experience 
by virtue of which the detective comes to know the criminal 
better than he knows himself and to be able to read the under¬ 
world like a book. Such experience comes only to men who 
make a career of detective work. City detective work at pres¬ 
ent offers a man not a career but a job; and consequently city 
detectives are more often jobholders than criminal experts. 

How can we get the sort of detectives we should have? The 
answer is simple. First, divorce detective work from routine 
police work. The two have little in common, and should have 
less. The reason a stage detective appeals to our sense of 
humor is that he is just a “ cop ” in plain clothes, and the 
reason we so admire the detective of fiction is that there is 
nothing of the “ cop ” about him. There is a lesson in this 
fact. Second, choose men for detective service, as such, and 
not for general police work, by a rigid system of competitive 


How to get 
the right 
sort of 
detectives 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


4. The vice 
problem 


232 

examinations carefully designed to select the kind of material 
specially needed in detective work. Third, provide a thorough 
system of education and training for detective service and 
require all detective candidates to pass with a good grade. 
Fourth, make detective service attractive to men of initiative 
and ability by making it distinctive as well as reasonably 
remunerative. Fifth, eliminate politics as a factor both in the 
selection and control of detectives. 

With a competent and well supervised body of detectives 
sufficient in number to keep the crime situation in hand, it 
would be possible to reduce very materially the amount of 
street patrol and reorganize the uniformed police force to per¬ 
form the functions for which it is really fitted. Guarding the 
city against crime is no job for uniformed policemen under 
modern conditions. Street patrol is an archaic and obsolete 
system of protection. Ten first class detectives can do more 
to keep down crime and safeguard the people against its con¬ 
sequences than a hundred roving patrolmen. For protection 
against crime the city of the future will rely mainly upon its 
detectives — detectives of the type that we would regard to¬ 
day as superdetectives — and will use its uniformed police for 
regulating traffic, keeping order at public assemblages, quelling 
riotous disturbances, and other types of work for which they 
are peculiarly adapted. If half the police now on patrol duty 
in our cities could be transferred to traffic duty, there would be 
an immediate improvement in traffic conditions. And if the 
other half could be reduced to a few well drilled companies of 
emergency men, order could be efficiently preserved with a 
much smaller force than we now employ. 

Unquestionably the most vexatious duty that the police have 
to perform, and the one that yields the least return for the 
time, energy, and money invested in it, is the suppression of 
vice. Our legislatures in an excess of zeal have outlawed a 
good many things which do not violate the urban conscience, 
despite the fact that in rural parts they may be viewed as 
sins. Gambling, for instance — when you abolish gambling, 
you deprive many an urbanite of one of his principal forms 
of recreation. It may be a sinful recreation, and one that is 
gravely dangerous to the public weal, but so long as a very 
considerable proportion of the people do not feel that way 
about it, it is going to be exceedingly difficult to banish it by 
legislative fiat. The same thing is true about liquor. Numer- 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 233 

ous popular referenda have demonstrated beyond any possi¬ 
bility of doubt that the urban multitudes of this country are 
in favor of alcoholic beverages and of the traffic in alcoholic 
beverages. Bacchus, Gambrinus, and John Barleycorn may 
be demons whose works lead straight to Hell, but so long as 
half the people or more delight in their titillations it is not 
easy to keep them beyond the pale. Prostitution does not have 
the same degree of social approval as drinking and gambling, 
but it is not disapproved as are murder, burglary, larceny, and 
other serious offenses. There is much hypocrisy in the public 
attitude towards prostitution, and many people who openly 
condemn it, secretly condone it. 

It can be seen, therefore, that in suppressing vice the police 
are often called upon to enforce laws that are unpopular, or if 
not unpopular, that are not supported by a positive public 
demand. These laws proscribe acts which great numbers of 
people do not consider to be morally reprehensible, or only 
slightly so at least, and which they do not consider to be any¬ 
one’s business but their own. How are the police to deal with 
such offenders? Obviously they must hunt them down, arrest 
them, and bring them to court for prosecution. But stalking 
gamblers, liquor peddlers, and prostitutes is a different game 
from tracking down murderers, burglars, and forgers. In the 
latter case public sympathy is with the police, but in the 
former it is not. There are neighborhoods in our great cities 
where a policeman would be in danger of being mobbed for 
arresting a liquor violator. There are localities where it is 
virtually impossible to get evidence against gamblers and 
prostitutes. And when by dint of great effort the police do 
round up a few offenders, do they find juries and courts ready to 
sustain them with convictions? Not as a rule; the chances are 
that a majority of the persons caught in their drag-net will be 
let off scot-free or with merely nominal penalties. 

“ What is the use of trying to enforce such legislation? ” 
says the policeman to himself after a few sad experiences. He 
cannot get convictions when he does make arrests, and if he is 
too zealous the vice interests may bring pressure to bear through 
political channels, and the chief “ sends him to the sticks,” 
i.e., transfers him to a long and remote residential “ beat ” 
which will put corns on his feet. Then the policeman begins 
to “ see things,” as the saying is, and when he gets a chance 
to “ shake down ” a little something by overlooking vice opera- 


vice offend¬ 
ers cannot 
be treated as 
ordinary 
criminals. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


234 

tions on his “ beat,” he says, “ Why not? ” and takes it. It 
will do him no good to make an arrest, and it will do him less 
good to “ squawk.” 

But even if the police department were incorruptible and 
the courts were ready to convict, suppression of vice would be 
a difficult task. Vice is much more elusive than crime, leaves 
fewer traces, and involves many more people. To insure a 
conviction it is almost indispensable that the offenders be 
taken in delicto. You can take a murderer or a burglar 
months or years after the commission of his crime and convict 
him on circumstantial evidence. But try to convict a prostitute 
on circumstantial evidence six months (or even six hours) old, 
or a gambler or a bootlegger. Vice offenders practically have 
to be taken in the act and convicted on evidence procured at 
the time. This is not the law of the situation, but it is the fact 
of the situation, and it is a fact which makes the job of the 
police doubly hard. People do not indulge in vice on the street 
corners. They take refuge in club rooms, hotels, apartment 
houses, various other private retreats. The police have to run 
them down and catch them in the act. What a merry-go-round 
it would be if the police should seriously undertake to track 
down all vice culprits. Would they have any time to hunt 
more serious offenders? 

Of course the police do not pretend to enforce vice legisla¬ 
tion stringently. They enforce it just as stringently as political 
exigencies require, and no more. It would be preposterous to 
Laxity almost expect them to proceed against all vice offenders; they never 
inevitable could locate more than a minor fraction of the total number 
if they should attempt it. Fancy the police trying to find 
every dice game, every card game, every supply of liquor, and 
every rendezvous for illegitimate sex relations in the city of a 
half-million inhabitants. It would mean that a majority of the 
people of the city would have to be kept under continuous sur¬ 
veillance; and no police department is going to undertake so 
fantastic a task as that. The actual policy of the police depart¬ 
ment is to single out a few flagrant and notorious offenders, 
and keep them under fairly close observation with perhaps an 
occasional arrest for the sake of the records. Then when the 
newspapers and reform organizations complain loudly, the po¬ 
lice launch a series of spectacular raids against offenders whom 
they have had spotted for a long time. This satisfies public 
opinion and does not greatly inconvenience the vice interests, 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 


235 

for the offenders are usually let off with a fine, which they 
regard as a license fee and a part of the regular cost of doing 
business. 

It is regrettable that we are forced to such cynical conclu¬ 
sions with regard to the vice problem, but the facts do not 
warrant anything else. The Associated Press dispatches re¬ 
cently carried a story to the effect the Chicago Crime Com¬ 
mission had charged the police department of that city with 
“ soft-pedalling ” more than 60,000 cases of violation of vice 
legislation. Whether the charge be true or not, the figure 
undoubtedly represents but a small portion of the total number 
of vice offenses in that city, most of which could not be known 
to the police at all. The easy way of disposing of the problem 
is to condemn our police departments as corrupt and inefficient, 
and demand a thorough housecleaning. But the thing we must 
recognize sooner or later is that policing, be it even 100 per 
cent efficient, can accomplish very little in the suppression 
of vice so long as we leave undisturbed the social and eco¬ 
nomic conditions which give rise to vice. The police can 
achieve a moderate degree of success in combatting commer¬ 
cialized vice in its most flagrant forms; but beyond that we 
should not look to the police for the solution. Fining and 
jailing prostitutes is not going to stop prostitution; fining 
and jailing gamblers is not going to stop gambling; fining and 
jailing bootleggers is not going to stop the illegitimate use of 
liquor. Such forms of repression have been used against vice 
since the beginning of organized society, and without much 
success. To stop prostitution we must correct the conditions 
which lead women to adopt this mode of livelihood; to stop 
gambling we must destroy the factors which stimulate the 
gambling impulse; to stop the liquor traffic we must eliminate 
the forces which create the desire for alcoholic stimulation. 
To put it bluntly, vice is a natural by-product of our social 
system; it grows out of inequities in the distribution of priv¬ 
ileges and advantages, out of defects in our processes of social 
education, out of maladjustments in our social and economic 
machinery. If we really want to combat vice, we must attack 
these conditions and remedy them, even though the remedy 
lead to profound modifications in our social order. 

The latest source of torment for the police department 
is the traffic problem. The motorization of vehicular traffic 
has reached the point where our cities are threatened with 


We must 
strike at the 
causes of 
vice. 


5. The 

traffic 

problem 


236 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The work of 
the police 
in traffic 
control 


economic strangulation from traffic congestion and with almost 
incalculable damage to person and property through traffic 
accidents. Every twenty minutes, speaking in averages, a life 
is snuffed out by an automobile accident, and every forty 
seconds a cripple is made. The human loss is incomputable; 
the property damage is estimated at more than $600,000,000 
a year. In addition to these perfectly appalling losses it is 
estimated that traffic congestion results in waste of fuel, in 
delay, idle equipment, increased overhead, and other operating 
losses to the total of $2,000,000,000 annually. 

Truly a staggering problem confronts the modern city in 
controlling its vehicular traffic. But it must be solved if our 
present-day mechanical civilization is to be saved from self- 
destruction. It is not fundamentally a police problem. As 
an ameliorative and adjuvant agency, the police department 
may make an important contribution to the solution of the 
traffic problem; but we must look to city planning, to recon¬ 
struction of traffic channels, to readjustments in street uses, 
to the redistribution of population and business and industry 
— in fact to the general recasting of our cities from a physical 
standpoint — for the real solution. 

The chief function of the police in dealing with traffic is to 
regulate its movement. Quite naturally the police were un¬ 
prepared for this task when it forced itself upon them a quar¬ 
ter of a century ago, and a great many police departments 
have not yet fully recovered from their initial bewilderment. 
The first expedient was to detail a few patrolmen to regulate 
traffic movements at specially congested points. None of these 
men had any previous training or experience, and they some¬ 
times made matters worse instead of improving them. As 
the need for traffic police increased and the difficulties of 
handling traffic multiplied, it gradually dawned upon the city 
fathers that a corps of specially trained men was needed to 
cope with the traffic problem. This led to the establishment 
of traffic divisions or bureaus in our city police departments, 
and to the recruiting of a specially selected and trained body 
of men for traffic service. A great improvement resulted. 
There was greater uniformity in methods of signalling and 
directing, greater intelligence in dealing with traffic situations, 
greater efficiency in the enforcement of traffic laws; but no im¬ 
provement in police technique could keep pace with the mount¬ 
ing perplexities of the traffic problem. No city could assign 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 


237 

enough policemen to traffic duty to cover all the points of con¬ 
gestion and danger without seriously depleting the force 
thought necessary for regular patrol or increasing the size of 
the police force beyond what the tax rate would stand. Sup¬ 
plementary aids were sought which would facilitate the control 
of traffic without an excessive increase in the number of traffic 
police. The most fruitful devices for this purpose have been 
synchronized signal systems, one-way streets, arterial stops, 
and parking restrictions; but some of these have augmented 
the difficulties of the police in some directions, though helping 
in others. The point of diminishing returns from mechanical 
aids and traffic restrictions has now been reached, and the 
traffic problem still remains unsolved. 

From the police standpoint the first requisite in traffic reg¬ 
ulation is a sound and adequate traffic code. At the present 
time most of our cities are governed under both state and city 
codes. Both of these are often too complicated to be easily ad¬ 
ministered, and there are sometimes serious discrepancies be¬ 
tween them which lead to difficulties in enforcement. There is 
also a lack of uniformity as between the traffic regulations in dif¬ 
ferent cities and states which is enormously confusing to driv¬ 
ers and is sometimes responsible for accidents. Considerable 
progress has been made through the work of the National Con¬ 
ference on Street and Highway Safety in drafting and securing 
the general acceptance of a uniform traffic code that will be 
simple and easily applied everywhere. The nation-wide adop¬ 
tion of such a code would do much to facilitate the work of the 
police in traffic regulation. 

Another highly desirable thing from the viewpoint of police 
regulation of traffic is a more effective means of controlling 
motorists. The laws of most of our states allow any person over 
18 years of age to operate a motor vehicle. The driver need not 
be the owner of the vehicle or have any responsibility for it. 
He need not be a person of proved physical or mental compe¬ 
tence and need not show any capacity for meeting the respon¬ 
sibilities which the law imposes upon him for failure to use 
proper care in the operation of the vehicle. Careless, reckless, 
and incompetent drivers are the cause of more than half of 
the troubles of the police in traffic regulation. Steps are now 
being taken in many places to curb this menace. Drivers are 
required to procure a license to operate a car, and in order to do 
so must pass an examination which will afford some evidence 


The need of 
a proper code 
of traffic law 


The need for 
more effec¬ 
tive control 
of motorists 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Why the 
police can¬ 
not solve the 
traffic prob¬ 
lem. 


238 

of their ability. Traffic offenders may have their licenses re¬ 
voked and be deprived of the right to operate a car. To enforce 
responsibility for the consequences of improper driving there 
are proposals to the effect that drivers be compelled to insure 
or give indemnity bonds in order to obtain the requisite op¬ 
erator’s license. None of these devices will wholly eliminate 
dangerous drivers, but they will place in the hands of the 
police, weapons which can be used with good effect in bringing 
them to account. 

It is becoming daily more obvious, however, that police regu¬ 
lation of traffic, indispensable though it be, cannot solve the 
problem. Certain conditions are beyond the capacity of police 
control to remedy; and until they are remedied the efficiency 
of the police in traffic regulation can never reach the possible 
maximum. The police cannot change the physical character 
of the streets; but this must be done to a large extent if traffic 
conditions are to be improved. Streets must be straightened, 
widened, extended, and articulated so as to give the city a 
circulatory system that will facilitate rather than impede the 
movement of traffic. The police cannot change the character 
of the traffic on the streets; but we have now reached the point 
where that is necessary. Street-cars and automobiles do not 
mix well, nor do trucks and pleasure cars. When traffic is 
light, the trouble is not great, but congestion makes it neces¬ 
sary to segregate and move these different vehicles in separate 
channels. The police cannot change the character of street 
intersections or counteract the follies of drivers; yet it is a fact 
that more than 75 per cent of all automobile accidents occur at 
street intersections, and are, for all the police can do, quite un- 
preventable. At busy and dangerous corners it is becoming 
necessary to put in underground or overhead crossings so as to 
make possible continuous traffic both ways; and at the less con¬ 
gested corners we must provide automatically operated devices 
which will close the side streets when traffic is moving on the 
main thoroughfare. The police cannot keep pedestrians in their 
appointed places. They can, of course, make arrests for “ jay¬ 
walking,” but there are not enough police to round up more 
than a tiny percentage of these offenders. Segregation of pedes¬ 
trian and vehicular traffic by physical means must inevitably 
come in the more congested parts of the city. The police can¬ 
not solve the parking problem; they can only make arrests for 
violation of parking restrictions, which helps to clear the streets 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 239 

but does not answer the question of what is to be done with 
the thousands of cars that must come down town every day. 
The police cannot prevent the continued erection of skyscrapers 
every one of which increases by thousands the number of peo¬ 
ple and vehicles trying to occupy the same space at the same 
time. 

“ The Sunday newspapers, when they run out of queer insects and 
Babylonian discoveries as material for sensations, are fond of giving 
us visions of * the city of the future,’ showing streets four or five 
layers deep, with each story devoted to one special type of traffic — 
street-cars, pedestrians, trucks and passenger automobiles. While it 
is, of course, not impossible that some such development may be 
seen, there is no valid evidence that it will. What New York is 
painfully learning in regard to subways is equally true of other 
forms of traffic: that congestion is not relieved by creating new 
facilities which parallel the old ones. Such devices simply make it 
possible to have worse congestion than ever, at the center; new road¬ 
ways fill up as soon as they are opened. Decentralization is the only 
effective remedy. The day is probably not far distant when regional 
planning boards will submit recommendations to legislatures for 
enactment into law, limiting the number of persons who may occupy 
each acre of land, either for business or residential purposes. 

“ But even such regulations would not solve the traffic question in 
its entirety. It is a rural as well as an urban problem. The first 
great result of the automobile has been to reduce the former differ¬ 
ence between city and country. The peaks and valleys of the popu¬ 
lation chart are being levelled off, a movement which is bringing with 
it a perplexing new group of problems for the sociologist. Traffic 
on a trunk-line highway may be a serious matter even many miles 
from the nearest large town. The mere cost of building and repair¬ 
ing these highways, and of maintaining adequate control of the 
movement of cars, presents new financial questions of increasing 
severity. 

“It should be strongly emphasized that traffic control is not a 
matter which can safely be left in the hands of the police depart¬ 
ment. Its problems are now such that they can only be solved 
properly by engineers with ample theoretical training and practical 
experience. The two objectives of regulation — safety and speed 
— are incompatible, and finding the proper balance between them is 
an extraordinarily difficult task. Decisions must be made in the 
near future which will have far-reaching consequences, and it is 
therefore more than ever important that they should be made 
well.” 1 

1 Editorial in The New Republic, July 18, 1928. 


6. Criminal 
identification 


7. The police 
signal sys¬ 
tem 


2 40 urban democracy 

One phase of police administration that has always intrigued 
the lay mind is criminal identification. Three methods for 
criminal identification are in common use. The first is the 
photographic method, colloquially known as the “ rogues gal¬ 
lery.” The second is the Bertillon system, and consists of tak¬ 
ing precise physiological and anatomical measurements of all 
persons falling into the hands of the police. The third is the 
finger-print method. All of the larger cities have bureaus of 
criminal identification in the police department or have certain 
officers specially detailed to that work, but the smaller cities 
for reasons of economy have found it impossible to maintain 
such services to any large extent. 

The photographic method of identification continues to.be 
used as extensively as ever, but the Bertillon system is being 
gradually discarded. There are two reasons for the decline of 
the Bertillon system: (i) increasing doubt as to its reliability, 
it being evident the physiological and anatomical measurements 
do not remain constant throughout life; and (2) the need for 
unusual expertness on the part of those administering it in order 
that the results may be worth while. The finger-print method 
of identification is simple, easy to administer, and almost one 
hundred per cent reliable. It has become, therefore, the chief 
method of criminal identification, the “ rogues’ gallery ” being 
now used in a supplementary capacity. One of the cardinal 
defects of criminal identification in the United States has al¬ 
ways been the want of uniform and comparable records in 
different cities and states throughout the country and the lack 
of a central clearing-house for identification records. For some 
years the International Association of Police Chiefs tried to 
remedy this situation by maintaining a national bureau of 
criminal identification on a voluntary basis at Washington, 
D. C. In 1923 the United States Department of Justice was 
induced to take over this work; and although it still retains 
much of its voluntary character, the federal department is able 
to cover the ground more completely and efficiently than the 
loosely organized association of police chiefs could do. 

Another feature of police work which, though technical in 
character, is of more than ordinary interest to the layman is 
the signal system. It is necessary for the precinct station- 
houses and central headquarters not only to keep close tab 
upon patrolmen on duty but also to be able to call them in at 
once if they should be needed for emergency service. Various 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 241 

combinations of telephone and flash-light mechanisms have 
been put into use in most cities to accomplish these purposes. 
Such devices are operated from both precinct and central head¬ 
quarters. Patrolmen are required to report by telephone at 
regular intervals, and may be summoned by flash-lights when 
not within reach of a telephone box. 

The administration of justice is not commonly regarded as 
a municipal problem, but it is so inextricably interlinked with 
safety and order that any discussion of those subjects which 
omits justice is incomplete. The administration of justice is 
the culmination of law enforcement, and failures in judicial 
administration have a tendency, therefore, to render all efforts 
at law enforcement vain and futile. Police efficiency means 
little and gets nowhere unless it is backed up by equally effi¬ 
cient judicial processes. It is of no avail for the police to make 
arrests when the courts turn the offenders loose as fast as the 
police can bring them in. 

The police of every city are enforcement officers of the state 
and nation as well as of the city, and the judicial system of the 
city provides for the execution of general as well as local law. 
The judicial machinery of the city consists of courts of various 
ranks and their auxiliary agencies. These courts are not as a 
rule so organized as to constitute a simple and soundly articu¬ 
lated system, but make a confused jumble of illogically differ¬ 
entiated tribunals with overlapping, conflicting, and mixed 
powers and jurisdiction. The justice of the peace has the hum¬ 
blest court of all. In many communities this tribunal still re¬ 
tains most of its ancient prerogatives, having minor jurisdiction 
in both civil and criminal cases and functioning more or less 
independently of all other courts. In some places the justices 
of the peace have yielded their criminal jurisdiction to a special 
court of police magistrates, but still retain their civil authority; 
and in a few cities the justice courts have been replaced by a 
unified municipal court. Next in rank above the justice courts 
are the general state courts of first instance. There may be a 
single court with many divisions or a number of specialized 
courts — common pleas, domestic relations, probate, juvenile, 
etc. Above these are appellate courts of various descriptions, 
known usually as circuit courts or district courts; and then 
comes the supreme court of the state, which of course does not 
sit in the city unless it happens to be the capital city of the 
state. In all of the large cities also there may be found na- 


The adminis¬ 
tration of 
justice 


Urban 

judicial 

machinery 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Its weak¬ 
nesses 


Importance 
of unified 
judicial 
machinery 


242 

tional courts. Associated with these various courts as auxiliary 
agencies are clerks, prosecuting officers, and executive officers 
such as sheriffs and bailiffs. 

The chief trouble with this system of judicial machinery is 
that it consists of largely disrelated and uncoordinated parts 
which function as though law enforcement were a partible mat¬ 
ter. The respective jurisdictions of these separate and mal¬ 
adjusted tribunals are so confused and ill-defined, their pro¬ 
cedure is so technical, and their operations are so complicated 
that the processes of judicial administration are replete with 
chances of escape for persons who have fallen into the toils of 
the law even though their guilt is readily apparent to every 
rational mind. And these chances are measurably increased 
when the judicial system or any important part of it falls un¬ 
der the control of a political machine that is leagued with the 
underworld. 

This is not the place to enter upon an exhaustive discussion 
of the faults of our judicial procedure; but a brief statement of 
the leading causes of judicial maladministration will be con¬ 
ducive to a better understanding of the whole problem of law 
and order in our large cities. 

As suggested above, one of the major defects of urban judi¬ 
cial processes is the lack of unified organization for trial of 
offenders after their apprehension by the police. In the game 
of hide-and-seek between the law and the criminal the advan¬ 
tage, under our present chaos of judicial arrangements, is all 
with the criminal and the shrewd and unscrupulous criminal 
lawyer. To correct this, it is proposed to establish a unified 
municipal court with complete jurisdiction over all cases aris¬ 
ing under state and local law. This court would be so organ¬ 
ized that there would be specialized branches for different types 
of work, but would be completely unified in its responsibility 
and in its internal relations. At the head of the court would 
be a chief justice who would be more than a mere presiding 
judge; he would be a business manager with complete author¬ 
ity over dockets, assignments, and other matters of judicial 
routine. The court would be staffed with clerical and technical 
assistants to the fullest extent necessary for coping with mod¬ 
ern judicial problems. No such tribunal has as yet been estab¬ 
lished in this country. The city of Detroit has a unified court 
for criminal cases only. New York, Chicago, Cleveland, Cin¬ 
cinnati, and several other cities have municipal courts that are 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 243 

unified in organization but not in jurisdiction, for their juris¬ 
diction extends only to minor causes and the state tribunals 
still handle the more serious cases. 

Another prolific cause of miscarriage in the administration of 
justice is delay in bringing cases to trial and in trial and 
appeal procedure. Such delay is the result of laxity on the 
part of judges and of technicalities in the rules governing the 
transaction of judicial business. A unified panel of judges un¬ 
der the effective direction of a responsible chief justice would 
do much to eliminate delay. The elimination of technicalities 
can be brought about by frequent revisions of the rules of pro¬ 
cedure and by giving the court large freedom in formulating its 
own rules of procedure. 

In criminal justice the prosecuting system is one of the 
weakest links in the chain leading from arrest to conviction. 
The principal agencies of prosecution are the grand jury and 
the prosecuting attorney. Extensive discretion is vested in 
both, and an offender may escape trial altogether if the pros¬ 
ecuting agencies do not care to press the action against him. 
Both grand juries and prosecutors are subject to political in¬ 
fluence and control, and it not infrequently happens that they 
perform their duties on a strictly political basis. Persons with 
political influence have the charges against them dismissed or 
reduced in gravity, while those not so fortunate in their politi¬ 
cal connections have to endure the full rigor of the law. 
Grand juries are not so much to blame, however, as prosecu¬ 
tors; for the average grand jury is a body of laymen utterly 
dependent upon the prosecutor for all its information about 
the case. It would be just as well to abolish the grand jury 
system, as has been done in several states, and place the 
responsibility solely and directly upon the prosecutor. Then, 
to keep the prosecutor’s office out of politics, popular election 
should be abandoned as a method of choosing prosecuting 
officers, and the prosecuting officer and all his deputies and 
assistants should be appointed by competitive examination 
and hold office during good behavior. 

The trial jury is another weak point in the urban judicial 
system. Jury trial is a dubious expedient at best; but in our 
large cities the trial jury has come to be a by-word and a re¬ 
proach. The packing of juries is a fine art and the manipula¬ 
tion of juries has been reduced to a science. Better judicial 
organization and better rules of procedure will tend to improve 


Our faulty 

prosecuting 

system 


The jury 
system 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Fire pro¬ 
tection 


Organiza¬ 
tion and ad¬ 
ministration 
of fire de¬ 
partments 


244 

the quality of jury service, but we must also have better ways 
of selecting juries. Blind chance is not so bad when it has 
good material to work with. But it has become so easy to 
escape jury duty that the best qualified citizens generally get 
themselves excused on one ground or another, and thus leave 
the field open to the congenitally inferior, which is precisely 
the result desired by the shyster lawyer. The time may come 
when it will be necessary to select jurors from restricted panels 
of persons recognized as having exceptional mental and moral 
qualifications, so that it will be regarded as a distinction to be 
designated for jury service. 

Protection against fire is, next to protection against crime 
and disorder, the biggest safeguarding job of city government. 
Fire protection has two distinct purposes: (1) to combat 
conflagrations, and (2) to prevent the outbreak of conflagra¬ 
tions. The fire department of the city undertakes to perform 
both of these functions, but it is organized primarily for fire¬ 
fighting and carries on its preventive work as a secondary and 
supplementary activity. 

In many respects the organization of the fire department 
is similar to that of the police department. It is a uniformed 
force organized on a semi-military basis. The city is divided 
into districts with a fire station in each. A fire company with 
a certain quota of equipment is located in each station, and is 
responsible for combating fires which break out in its district. 
Only when a conflagration is too serious for a single company 
to handle is help sent from other districts. Firemen do not 
undertake to patrol the city, but remain at their station-houses 
awaiting summons. 

The overhead organization of the fire department and its 
problems (including recruiting, training, and other matters 
of personnel) are very similar to those noted in the case of the 
police department. When the fire department is not set apart 
as a separate unit of organization, it is invariably a division 
of the department of public safety along with the police force. 
Under those circumstances the fire chief, like the chief of 
police, should rank as a technical aide or deputy of the head of 
the safety department. Captains and lieutenants in the fire 
department are the commanding officers in the various station- 
houses. One problem of personnel management in fire¬ 
fighting, which does not appear to any great extent in policing, 
is the rotation and length of periods of service. Since firemen 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 2 45 

do not mount guard and patrol but see active duty only when 
called to extinguish a fire, they have a great deal of idle time. 
Lounging around the station-house, they have little to do but 
polish the equipment and play pinochle. Feeling that the 
life of a fireman was arduous by fits and jerks which did not 
occur too often, the early founders of our municipal institu¬ 
tions placed the fire department on twenty-four hour tour of 
duty. Dormitories were provided in the station-house, and 
the members of the company were required to be there day and 
night. Each man would be given one, two, or even three days 
a week off duty, but the company was kept at full strength 
all the time by having enough extra men so that one or two 
could be off every day without impairing the regular organiza¬ 
tion of the company. This was known as the single platoon 
system. 

Firemen seemed fairly content with their lot for many years; 
but onrushing civilization with its movies, automobiles, and 
e'ght-hour days sowed the seeds of discontent, and firemen 
began to view themselves as an oppressed and ill-used class 
of public servants. It was obviously inhumane to deprive 
their families of their presence for such long periods. They 
agitated for relief. Having political power, they got it, in the 
form of the two-platoon system. Under this system two full 
companies are attached to each station and alternate in the 
day and night duty. It cost the taxpayer a pretty penny to 
gratify the fire-laddies’ demand for more leisure, but it may 
have been worth the cost. Cities all over the land put in the 
two-platoon system — and then the firemen began agitation 
for the three-platoon system, which would give them an eight- 
hour day, thus placing them on a level with bankers, plumbers, 
and garage mechanics; and a number of cities capitulated. But 
the three-platoon idea received something of a set-back when 
post-war retrenchment set in a few years ago, and has made no 
progress since. 

The problem of leisure time is a serious matter in fire admin¬ 
istration. It deeply affects morale and physical fitness. There 
is not a great amount of work that can be done at the station- 
house, and it is inadvisable to detail firemen in considerable 
numbers for inspection duty. Educational work may be car¬ 
ried on to a certain extent, but there are definite limits to this. 
It is a wise commanding officer who knows how to divide the 
time of his company between station-work, practice-drills, and 


The platoon 
systems 


The equip¬ 
ment prob¬ 
lem 


Fire preven¬ 
tion 


Requisites 
for fire pre¬ 
vention 


24 6 URBAN DEMOCRACY 

leisure so as to keep them always in the best fire-fighting 
trim. 

The question of fire-fighting equipment has been a good deal 
in politics in the United States. Many a city has been encum¬ 
bered with defective equipment and also with a great deal of 
non-essential equipment because the chief members of the coun¬ 
cilmans committee, or other key personages, were adequately 
“ taken care of ” by the company making the sale. The policy 
of the city with regard to fire-fighting equipment should be gov¬ 
erned by two considerations: (i) what kind of equipment is 
called for by the nature of the fire hazards in the area where it 
is to be used, and (2) whether the particular equipment under 
consideration complies with the highest standards of technical 
efficiency. The first of these questions may be answered by a 
careful survey of the types of building construction and uses in 
the particular district, and the second may be answered by con¬ 
sulting the National Fire Underwriters’ Laboratory. Practi¬ 
cally the same considerations should apply to signal equipment 
as well. 

American cities have made remarkable progress in the sci¬ 
ence of extinguishing fire. We have the largest and best or¬ 
ganized fire departments in the world, the biggest and most 
powerful fire engines, the most efficient chemical extinguishers, 
the best devised ladder trucks, and so on. And with all this 
splendid organization and equipment, we have the worst fire 
record in the world. The annual per capita loss from fire in 
the United States is $4.75; in Great Britain it is 72c; in France 
49c; in Germany 28c; in Italy 25c; in Switzerland 15c, and in 
Holland nc. This paradoxical situation is partially accounted 
for by the far larger amount of frame and wood construction 
in the United States than in European countries; but in the 
main it is attributable to the greater success in fire prevention 
in those countries. We fight the effect; they fight the cause. 
We spend millions where they spend thousands to put out fires; 
they spend much effort where we spend very little to prevent 
fires. 

For fire prevention first of all a state of public opinion is 
necessary that will support the restriction of personal freedom 
by legal steps which will prevent the creation of fire hazards. 
This means that we must so regulate the construction and 
equipment of all buildings as to reduce as far as possible the 
fire dangers that lurk in faulty construction and in heating 


247 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 

and electric systems; that we must similarly control the uses 
of buildings so as to prevent the utilization of structures for 
purposes involving fire hazards that the building is not designed 
to meet, as for example the use of frame buildings for dry- 
cleaning establishments or moving picture theaters; that we 
must regulate the storage and handling of inflammable and ex¬ 
plosive materials so as to keep down the menace of fire from 
these sources; that we must combat the danger from negligence 
in the handling of coals, ashes, matches, and inflammable rub¬ 
bish by severe penalties; and that we must reduce the menace 
of what is known as spontaneous combustion by penalizing the 
failure to take the precautionary measures necessary to prevent 
spontaneous combustion just as severely as we punish direct 
and wilful negligence in the handling of highly inflammable 
materials. 

An adequate fire protection code will cover all of these points 
and many more with the utmost detail. Nearly all American 
cities have such codes, and they are being constantly improved. 

Where we fail in comparison with European countries is not 
so much in the content of our fire codes as in their enforce¬ 
ment. We do not have the far-reaching and ferret-like inspec¬ 
tion which is necessary to put teeth into the fire code, and our 
courts and juries are inclined to be very lenient with violators w e are lax 
who are brought before the bar of justice. There is a certain L n enf ° rcin e 
amount ot regular inspection of premises in American cities to 
ascertain whether the fire code is being adhered to, but it is 
often perfunctory and incomplete. The fire department can¬ 
not spare the men necessary to do this job thoroughly; and the 
police department, although it might do fire inspection work as 
a part of its regular patrol duty, regards fire inspection as more 
or less foreign to its particular sphere. Fire inspection is pri¬ 
marily a police job in Europe, and is very efficiently performed. 

We should not gain much from more rigid fire inspection, how¬ 
ever, so long as judges and jurors maintain their present atti¬ 
tude of indulgence towards offenders against the fire protection 
laws. Arson and incendiarism are the only offenses against fire 
protection laws that we really take seriously in this country. 

Public education is likewise a valuable means of fire protec¬ 
tion. Much progress is being made along this line. Fire Pre- Public atti- 
vention Day is now annually observed throughout the United J^chTnged. 
States, and is the occasion for a vast outpouring of educational 
propaganda through the press, the moving pictures, the schools, 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


248 

and other channels of publicity. But the personal habits of a 
people change slowly even under the impact of propaganda. 
Americans have always been the most careless people in the 
world in the use of fire both domestically and industrially. 
They could afford to be. It has always been easier to replace 
property consumed or damaged by fire in this country than 
elsewhere. Lower construction costs account for this in part, 
but a great deal of the responsibility must be laid at the door 
of our highly competitive system of insurance underwriting. 
This system has been a standing invitation for property owners 
to pass the risk on to the insurance company. Lying before the 
writer now is a circular giving an account of a rate war among 
a number of large fire insurance companies. It is a cut-throat 
struggle with each trying to bag all the business it can get; and 
as a consequence they are not overscrupulous in accepting risks, 
fixing premiums, and making settlements. It is also a fact that 
matches and other materials for fire-making have always been 
more easily available to persons of all ages and degrees of men¬ 
tal competence in the United States than elsewhere in the 
world. Some countries impose taxes on matches that put them 
in the category of luxuries, and thus out of the reach of hoboes 
or small boys with pyromaniac tendencies. And some countries 
assess damage costs directly upon owners or occupants of prop¬ 
erty unless they can prove conclusively that they were in no 
way directly or indirectly responsible for the origin of fires oc¬ 
curring on their premises. The burden of proof is always upon 
the owner or occupant. This has a very salutary effect in curb¬ 
ing the free and general dispensation of matches and in stimu¬ 
lating the utmost precautionary care on the part of those re¬ 
sponsible for the use and condition of property. 

Structural safety is a problem of more recent origin than 
problem police protection and fire protection. Not until cities began to 
tety CtUral build into the air and to develop structures housing hundreds 
and thousands of persons at a time did the dangers of defective 
construction become a general menace. These dangers are 
traceable to many different causes. Foundations, steel-work, 
masonry, or timbering may be inadequate or improperly built 
and thus create a danger of collapse. Doors, windows, stair¬ 
ways, fire escapes, and other appurtenances may be defective 
or wrongly constructed and thus produce serious perils for the 
users of the building. Elevators, steam boilers, and other forms 
of mechanical equipment (particularly in buildings used for 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 249 

commercial or industrial purposes) may be and are often a men¬ 
ace to life and limb. Equipment for gas, electricity, plumbing, 
and other facilities of modern life may also be potent instru¬ 
ments of destruction unless correctly constructed and installed. 
In fact there is no end of danger in the structures required 
for modern urban civilization unless great pains are taken to 
guarantee their safety. 

That has come to be one of the most vital jobs of city gov¬ 
ernment. The first thing is a body of law regulating the con¬ 
struction, equipment, and operation of all kinds of buildings. 
This is usually called the building code. Sometimes there is a 
state building code as well as a municipal code. In such cases 
there are often serious problems due to conflicts and discrepan¬ 
cies between them. An effort has also been made to secure 
uniformity in building codes, the two model codes — the 
Hoover code and the National Fire Underwriters code — have 
been put out to pave the way. We cannot go into the techni¬ 
calities of building legislation, but we can readily realize that 
the drafting of such legislation is a matter for experts. When 
it comes to determining standards and specifications for build¬ 
ing materials, structural strength, mechanical equipment, gas 
and electric installations, and other such matters, the average 
city council or state legislature is as much at sea as an Eskimo 
with a table of logarithms. The very best technical advice 
should be sought and followed. The most satisfactory build¬ 
ing codes have been prepared by representative commissions 
of technicians and then submitted to the council or legislature 
for adoption. 

With an adequate building code on the books, the next step 
is control. Initially this is secured by licensing building opera¬ 
tions. No one is permitted to erect any sort of structure with¬ 
out securing a building permit, and in order to secure this 
permit the builder must submit plans and specifications which 
conform to the requirements of the building code. The next 
step is inspection to follow up the licensee and see that he ad¬ 
heres to the required specifications. This is the weak point in 
the system, for it is impossible for the city to employ enough 
inspectors to check closely on all building operations, and most 
cities do not even try. They single out a few matters which 
seem to call for special attention, such as boilers, elevators, 
electric wiring, and inspect them as diligently as possible. For 
the rest they depend upon the honor of the builders, with per- 


Building 

laws 


Building in¬ 
spection 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


250 

haps a semi-occasional inspection for exemplary purposes. In¬ 
spection is needed, of course, not only upon buildings under 
construction, but upon old buildings as well in order to insure 
their continued compliance with the law as changes are made in 
the requirements or as deterioration occurs in the buildings. 

Only in the larger cities is there a special department for the 
enforcement of the building code. In the smaller cities the 
work is usually distributed among several different authorities. 
Plumbing inspection may be assigned to the health department, 
electrical inspection to the fire department, elevator inspection 
to the city engineer, and so on. It is becoming increasingly 
desirable, however, to group these related functions together 
under a common head so that their work may be better cor¬ 
related and their efficiency increased. 


Selected References 

A. C. Hanford, Problems in Municipal Government, Chaps. XVI, 

XVII, XVIII. 

C. C. Maxey, Readings in Municipal Government, Chaps. VII, VIII. 

B. W. Maxwell, Contemporary City Government of Germany, 

Chap. VI. 

W B Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. II, 
Chaps. XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV. 

L. D. Upson, The Practice of Municipal Administration, Chaps. 
XIII, XIV, XIX, XX, XXI. 

J Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chaps. 
XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV. 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. If you were given complete power to organize a city police de¬ 
partment according to your own ideas, subject only to the condition 
that you should do everything possible to keep politics out of the 
department, what scheme of organization would you set up? 

2. What is the proportion of detectives to uniformed patrolmen 
in your city? What would you suggest as the proper number for 
each service? 

3. Outline a plan for the improvement of traffic conditions in your 
city through police control. Suggest any reforms you think might 
be valuable in supplementing police control. 

4. From the standpoint of police administration alone, debate the 
question of the policy of toleration vs. the policy of suppression of 
vice. 


SAFETY, ORDER, AND JUSTICE 251 

5. Argue the question of whether it would tend towards the pre¬ 
vention of fire if the owner of property should be made personally 
responsible for all damage to neighboring premises in case of fire 
occurring on his property, provided that he might escape this re¬ 
sponsibility by proving that the fire did not originate through any 
negligence on his part. 


City life 
Involves 
many haz¬ 
ards to health. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

HEALTH AND PHYSICAL VIGOR 

Nothing affords a better illustration of modern trend towards 
collectivism than the manifold and wide-sweeping activities 
of contemporary city government in the protection and ad¬ 
vancement of the health and physical vigor of its subjects. 
City life is hard on the human body. Living conditions in the 
city are abnormal for a creature equipped by nature for an 
outdoor life, and the swarming together of such beings in vast 
multitudes greatly increases the occurrence of disease and 
physical decline. Modern science has done a great deal to 
emancipate us from the ravages of pestilence and disease, 
which in former times blighted urban life and rendered it al¬ 
most intolerable; but even yet, with all that science has accom¬ 
plished, the city remains uncongenial to health and physical 
vitality. This is not to say that people may not be as healthy 
in the city as in the country, but that the city has more dan¬ 
gers to be combated and more obstacles to be surmounted in 
order to insure good health than the country. 

The city is prodigally wasteful of its human resources. 
Death and disease stalk through the streets claiming their 
victims on every hand. A thousand perils to health beset 
the urbanite daily. Infectious, contagious, and many other 
kinds of communicable diseases are always present in the 
city; conditions favorable to the onset of non-communicable 
diseases, particularly chronic diseases, are widely prevalent; 
industrial diseases stand ever ready to prey upon the worker; 
infant mortality makes terrible inroads upon the natural 
increase of population; and debilitation and premature physical 
decline, caused by the stress and strain of city life and by 
unnatural and unhygienic modes of life, break down resist¬ 
ance and convert thousands into congenial hosts for any 
troop of bacteria which may invade their bodies. Overcrowd¬ 
ing is the immediate cause of all this, but more fundamental 
even than that are impure water, contaminated food, defiled 

252 


HEALTH AND PHYSICAL VIGOR 253 

air, bad sanitation, improper housing, insufficient sunlight, 
and inadequate exercise. 

To protect health and promote physical vigor it is necessary 
first to fight the causes of disease and ill-health. It used to be 
thought that a man’s health was his own business; but the 
more we learn about the causes of disease, the more apparent 
it becomes that every man’s health is the community’s busi¬ 
ness. The community cannot afford to allow a man to do as 
he pleases about his own health, because in so doing he is very 
likely to become a grave menace to others. Moreover, it is 
becoming increasingly clear that no man is fully capable of 
looking after his own health, no matter how willing he may be, 
for the causes of disease are so largely beyond the control of a 
single individual. It is therefore the right as well as the duty 
of the community to compel the adoption of measures neces¬ 
sary for the safeguarding of health and physical vigor. Nor 
is that the end of the community’s job. Because urban con¬ 
ditions are adverse to the maintenance of bodily health 
and vigor, it is the rightful business of the community, not 
merely to combat the causes of disease and ill-health, but to 
provide facilities which will contribute in a positive and con¬ 
structive way to the upbuilding of the health and physique 
of the members of the community. Modern city government 
has assumed these responsibilities and is engaged in more 
health work than could be fully described in a compendious 
volume. 

The most spectacular phase of the battle against disease 
is the fight against infectious and contagious diseases. These 
are diseases which are known to spread from person to per¬ 
son through association or contact or through means inciden¬ 
tal to association or contact. Smallpox, diphtheria, scarlet 
fever, measles, mumps, and chicken-pox are some of the more 
common examples of this type of disease. Medical opinion is 
not unanimous as to the number of diseases which should be 
placed in this class; but there is almost universal agreement 
among persons of really scientific attainments as to the proper 
method of combating them. The first step is isolation. Be¬ 
cause these diseases are readily transmissible from person to 
person, they will continue to spread so long as afflicted per¬ 
sons continue to comp into contact with others who are suscep¬ 
tible. Public health laws all over the world authorize the 
health authorities to quarantine persons having or suspected 


The war 
against dis¬ 
ease is a 
community 
problem. 


Combating 
contagious 
and infec¬ 
tious dis¬ 
eases 


Isolation 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Fumigation 


Immuniza¬ 

tion 


254 

of having certain infectious or contagious diseases. When 
a quarantine is established it means that none but persons 
specially authorized by the health authorities may come into 
contact with the patient until after the order of quarantine is 
lifted. Violation of quarantine is a serious matter, and may 
bring summary punishment. Ordinarily only a single individ¬ 
ual or his immediate family or associates are placed under 
quarantine; but the power of the health officials is usually of 
a plenary character in such matters, and in numerous cases a 
whole neighborhood or a whole community has been subjected 
to quarantine restrictions. 

Supplementing isolation are various other expedients for 
the control of infectious and contagious diseases. Fumigation 
of persons and premises is still extensively practiced, although 
medical science is becoming increasingly skeptical of its effi¬ 
cacy. However, it is authorized, and sometimes required, by 
law and will continue to be used until its value is conclusively 
disproved. Fumigation is, of course, but a form of disinfection 
and sterilization, and although its value may be questionable, 
there are many other methods of bacteriological epuration 
whose effectiveness is beyond question. Most of these are 
too technical for discussion here, but it is worthy of note that 
the most effective of all disinfectants are boiling water, sun¬ 
shine, and pure air. 

Immunization has come in recent years to be one of the 
most successful means of combating infectious and contagious 
diseases. Immunization for smallpox by means of vaccina¬ 
tion has been practiced with success for upwards of a cen¬ 
tury, and has been largely responsible for the virtual eradica¬ 
tion of this dreadful scourge. But only within the last 
quarter-century has medical science developed effective sera 
for immunization against other diseases. By this method we 
have now practically conquered diphtheria, and seem to be upon 
the verge of success with scarlet fever. As time goes on we 
may expect many other diseases to yield to this method of 
attack. The value of immunization as a means of combat¬ 
ing the spread of contagious and infectious diseases is con¬ 
siderably limited by the fact that health officials have no 
authority to make it compulsory until epidemic conditions 
develop. There would be no epidemics if the health authori¬ 
ties could compel every person to take the precaution of being 
immunized, just as there would be no long hikes to the filling 


HEALTH AND PHYSICAL VIGOR 255 

station if people would take the precaution of filling the gas 
tank before leaving town. 

Many communicable diseases are not infectious or con¬ 
tagious. They are not ordinarily transmitted directly from 
person to person by contact or association, but are spread by 
carriers such as insects, animals, water, and food. Typhoid 
fever, yellow fever, typhus fever, and perhaps tuberculosis are 
examples of such diseases. These diseases are both epidemic 
and endemic in character, depending more or less upon cir¬ 
cumstantial factors. The methods of combating these diseases 
differ somewhat from those used in dealing with infectious 
and contagious diseases. Complete isolation is not necessary; 
but partial isolation is needed in order to keep the afflicted 
person from becoming an agency of dissemination. Proper 
care in handling excreta, sputum, and various bodily dis¬ 
charges, in excluding insects and animals from contact with the 
sick person, and in safeguarding foodstuffs from contamination 
will usually accomplish this result. The most important thing 
from the standpoint of protecting the public is to locate the 
source of the infection and stamp out the carrying agencies. 
The source may be found in drinking water, milk, meat, and 
other foodstuffs, and the carrying agencies (when source and 
carrier are not identical) may be flies, lice, mosquitoes, ani¬ 
mals (both domestic and wild), and human beings. Health 
authorities are given extensive power by summary abatement 
to eradicate conditions believed to be responsible for the 
spread of such diseases. They can order animals killed, close 
business establishments, impound water supplies, sequester 
property, and take many other drastic steps if the emergency 
demands it. 

From the standpoint of administration the most vital thing 
in dealing with communicable diseases of all kinds is not the 
medical technique (that is sufficiently perfected to be very 
effective if given a chance) but prompt, accurate, and com¬ 
plete information as to occurrence of such diseases. The health 
authorities are helpless unless they can know immediately 
when and where outbreaks of communicable diseases are 
taking place. Delayed information is almost as bad as no 
information, for time is a decisive factor in most cases. The 
medical profession, therefore, must function as an intelligence 
service for the health authorities. The necessary information 
comes first to medical practitioners in course of their daily 


Non-con¬ 
tagious and 
non-infec- 
tious com¬ 
municable 
diseases 


Administra¬ 
tive requisites 
in combat¬ 
ing com¬ 
municable 
diseases 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Laxity in 
reporting 
should be 
dealt with 
severely. 


256 

practice, and the health authorities have no means of getting 
it except through this channel. As early as 1782 practicing 
physicians in the city of Naples were required to report cases 
of tuberculosis to the city authorities; and following that ex¬ 
ample public health legislation all over the world has imposed 
similar obligations upon the members of the medical profes¬ 
sion, not only for tuberculosis but for a long list of diseases. 
The diseases which are invariably made reportable are small¬ 
pox, diphtheria, scarlet fever, typhoid fever, tuberculosis, 
mealsles, whooping cough, chicken-pox, infantile paralysis, 
typhus, mumps, yellow fever, bubonic plague, rabies, and 
venereal diseases; and many others are frequently added to the 
list. It is the duty of the physician upon encountering one of 
these diseases in his practice to report the fact at once to the 
health authorities. The laws often call for informal notifica¬ 
tion by telephone followed by formal notification in writ¬ 
ing. The health department generally supplies practicing 
physicians with blank forms to be used in making written 
reports. 

Although the laws on disease reporting are mandatory, some 
doctors are lax in complying with them. Sometimes it may be 
because the doctor is swamped with work or is habitually 
careless of details, but too often it is the result of a desire to 
gratify the wishes of patients who desire to avoid the incon¬ 
venience and unwelcome publicity that sometimes follow upon 
the reporting of such cases to the health authorities. Doctors 
who deliberately withhold reports of communicable diseases 
in order to ingratiate themselves with patients are not 
only derelict in a sworn duty, but are a grave menace to the 
public. The penalties prescribed by law for this offense 
(usually a fine of $10 to $200) are much too mild. In Spain 
a physician used to be banished from the country for ten years 
for failure to report communicable diseases. A much simpler 
and more effective penalty is to revoke the physician’s license 
to practice. It is recognized, of course, that some discretion 
must be allowed to the attending physician, because diagnosis is 
not an exact science, and the doctor cannot always be sure at 
the inception of a disease just what it is; but every competent 
practitioner knows suspicious symptoms and could make a 
tentative report to be treated confidentially by the health 
authorities. 

The procedure of the health authorities upon receiving re- 


HEALTH AND PHYSICAL VIGOR 257 

ports of communicable diseases is to make an immediate inves¬ 
tigation to ascertain what measures of defense may be neces¬ 
sary for the protection of the public. The investigation in¬ 
volves not only a confirmation of the attending physician’s 
diagnosis, but a searching inquiry into the origins of the case 
both immediate and remote. The action taken by the health 
officials, both as to the patient and as to other factors in the 
case, must depend to a large extent upon the outcome of this 
investigation. 

Tuberculosis and the venereal diseases are communicable 
diseases which call for a special word, because they involve 
peculiar difficulties. These diseases do not fluctuate in fre¬ 
quency of occurrence and number of cases as do most com¬ 
municable diseases, but are ever present and, unless success¬ 
fully combated, in ever growing numbers. Nor are they 
readily halted by isolation, immunization, and other measures 
which are successful in dealing with most communicable dis¬ 
eases. The cure of tuberculosis, when it is curable, is a proc¬ 
ess which calls for a long period of treatment and a carefully 
observed regimen of hygienic living; and a great many patients 
find it impossible to follow the prescribed course of therapeu¬ 
tics, on account of both its expense and its interference with 
their vocations. Except in the advanced stages of the disease, 
the patient is not bedridden, and is capable most of the time 
of moderate activity. Complete isolation is out of the question, 
and partial isolation is very difficult to enforce when the 
patient is up and around. The health officials cannot keep 
tuberculosis patients under constant surveillance, cannot isolate 
them, and cannot commit them all to institutions. The only 
way, then, to keep the patient from becoming a spreader of 
the disease is to impress upon him and his family and asso¬ 
ciates the importance of sanitary precautions. The family 
physician is a valuable aid in this matter; but the thousands 
of cases that are not under the regular care of a physician 
must be reached through educational propaganda and pub¬ 
licity, through social service agencies, and through public 
services such as free dispensary and visiting nurse service. 
Priceless help in the war against tuberculosis has come from 
voluntary private agencies and associations like the Red 
Cross and the various anti-tuberculosis societies. In endeavor¬ 
ing to prevent tuberculosis the public health authorities have 
to wage unceasing war against bad housing conditions, un- 


Combating 

tuberculosis 


The problem 
of venereal 
disease 


2 5 g URBAN DEMOCRACY 

sanitary living and working conditions, contaminated food 
supplies, and unhygienic modes of life. 

Venereal diseases present the most difficult problem of all. 
These diseases are both preventable and curable; but owing 
to the social stigma attached to the victim of such diseases 
it is almost impossible for the health authorities to get them 
under control. Even with the fullest cooperation of practicing 
physicians (and that is a rare thing), the health officials are se¬ 
riously handicapped by the fact that most persons with venereal 
afflictions will not consult a physician until necessity forces 
them to it, by which time the disease has run so long a course 
that they have infected many others. Often they turn to pat¬ 
ent remedies and quack doctors; but instead of being relieved 
of their sufferings they are relieved of their money and of their 
chances of recovery. Until the great “ conspiracy of silence 
is broken down, little progress can be made in the struggle 
against these social plagues. Health authorities have tried 
to attack the problem by propaganda and by the establish¬ 
ment of confidential clinics; but unfortunately there are thou¬ 
sands of afflicted persons who for various reasons cannot be 
reached by these means. Much has been done, however, to put 
quacks out of business and restrict the sale of patent nostrums. 
Stringent legislation rigidly enforced can do so much at least. 

It is an unfortunate fact that affliction with a venereal dis¬ 
ease is popularly taken as proof positive of sexual immorality, 
and for this reason people try to conceal it. It is true without 
doubt that sexual immorality often means exposure to venereal 
infections; but it should be remembered that these infections 
can be and are spread in many other ways, and ways that 
endanger the innocent as well as the guilty. Nor should it be 
supposed that sexual immorality is commonly requited with 
venereal infection. If that were true, there might be some 
justice in allowing the guilty to suffer the consequences of their 
indiscretions, provided it could be done without peril to inno¬ 
cent persons; but the fact is that the worst sex offenders from 
the standpoint of social responsibility, quite commonly escape 
all venereal infections. It is the sub-normal, the ignorant, the 
credulous, the unfortunate, the underprivileged who are the 
most common prey of these diseases. Moreover, sexual im¬ 
morality, disgraceful though it is and always will be, is not the 
sort of offense that should be permitted to blight a person’s 
entire life. Society is becoming more charitable in these mat- 


HEALTH AND PHYSICAL VIGOR 


2 59 

ters; is in fact slowly awakening to a realization of the respon¬ 
sibility of society itself for the prevalence of sexual immorality. 
This is an additional reason to hope that some day common 
sense may prevail over fear and prejudice, and so make an end 
of the scourge — the wholly unnecessary scourge — of venereal 
disease. 

Non-communicable diseases fall into two general classes from 
the standpoint of public health administration: (i) those which 
are caused in whole or in part by industrial conditions, and 
(2) those which are caused in whole or in part by the physical 
environment (apart from industrial factors) and mode of life 
of the afflicted person. Industrial or occupational diseases are 
caused chiefly by chemical processes, dust, or other mephitic 
conditions to which the worker is constantly exposed. Pro¬ 
prietors of business institutions are generally willing to correct 
such conditions when brought to their attention; but there al¬ 
ways are a few selfish and short-sighted persons who place 
immediate profit ahead of the health and continued efficiency of 
their employees, and it is this minority which has compelled 
state legislatures and city councils to enact detailed codes of 
industrial legislation for the purpose of safeguarding the health 
of the workers. The enforcement of these laws is divided 
between state and municipal authorities, and the city’s part 
of the work is often distributed among several different agen¬ 
cies. The procedure is usually by inspection and executive 
order — inspection to ascertain whether the law is being 
complied with, and executive order to enforce compliance if 
need be. 

The second class of non-communicable diseases presents 
far greater difficulty than the first, where specific causes may 
be found for specific diseases. A vast amount of illness in 
every city is traceable to no single and definite cause, but 
rather to the cumulative effect of many different factors work¬ 
ing singly or in combination. Rheumatic afflictions, sinus 
troubles, respiratory diseases, digestive disorders, intestinal 
troubles, nervous disorders, heart diseases, and many other 
chronic or partially chronic afflictions of the human race are 
undoubtedly aided and abetted, if not initially caused, by fac¬ 
tors in urban life that are adverse to the normal functioning 
of the human body. The urbanite breathes smoke-laden air, 
gets little sunlight, drinks impure or unwholesome water, eats 
improper and unhealthful foods, comes into contact with filth 


Preventing 
and counter¬ 
acting non- 
communicable 
diseases 


Industrial 

diseases 


Chronic dis¬ 
orders 


The campaign 
to Improve 
environmen¬ 
tal conditions 
and personal 
and social 
habits 


Purification 
of water 
supplies 


26o urban democracy 

in its most dangerous forms, takes insufficient exercise, and on 
the whole lives an abnormal physical life. As a consequence 
his vitality ebbs, his resistance is lowered, toxic conditions 
develop in various parts of his system, and when disease in¬ 
vades his body it makes an easy conquest. 

Public health authorities cannot combat this sort of disease 
by direct action as in the case of communicable or occupational 
diseases. Their task here is the much more formidable one 
of revolutionizing the environmental conditions and personal 
and social habits which make against health and physical 
vigor in urban life. Some of these conditions may be corrected 
in part by proper legislation reinforced by effective administra¬ 
tion; but others can be corrected only through education, lead¬ 
ership, and social experience. Sanitation can be enforced 
by law; pure food and water may be provided by the same 
means; the smoke nuisance may be abated in the same way; 
and housing conditions likewise may be ameliorated by legal 
action. But personal hygiene cannot be enforced in that way, 
nor can any other requirement that depends upon individual 
initiative. 

Nearly all cities now are exceedingly careful of their water 
supplies, and are making constant efforts to improve them. 
Municipal ownership of water supply systems is the usual 
thing, the city which is content to endure the woes and take 
the risks which private ownership involves being regarded as 
mediaevally benighted. Pure water is not only vital to life 
and health, but is essential in all industrial and commercial 
activity. The construction and operation of water supply 
systems are essentially problems of engineering and business 
management, and as such will be discussed under another 
heading. From the health standpoint the important thing is 
the purification of the water before it reaches the tap. Nature 
has endowed some cities with plentiful supplies of pure and 
palatable water which needs only to be collected and stored; 
but other cities have to resort to various means of sterilization 
and filtration before their water supplies are fit for consump¬ 
tion. Chlorination is the most common method of disinfection 
of water supplies. This consists of treating the water with 
liquid chlorine or chlorinated lime. Purification by chlorina¬ 
tion must often be supplemented by filtration and other proc¬ 
esses to eliminate the turbidity and increase the payability 
of water supplies. 


HEALTH AND PHYSICAL VIGOR 2 6 i 

Sewerage systems are universal in American cities and 
are on the way to become so in European cities. The disposal 
of human excreta and refuse by sanitary means has proved 
to be one of the greatest forward steps in public health history. 
Innumerable epidemics of disease have been averted and mil¬ 
lions of lives have been saved by the elimination of human 
filth as a carrying agency. The modern city provides a sewerage 
system adequate for both present and anticipated future needs, 
and compels householders to install equipment for the use of 
the common sewers. Failure to do so, or to make use of the 
sewers after connection with them, is severely punished. Pro¬ 
vision is likewise made for the sanitary disposal of refuse 
material that cannot be carried by the sewers, elaborate pre¬ 
cautions being taken to insure the handling of garbage and 
rubbish in such a way as to prevent the spread of disease. The 
enforcement of sanitary legislation as to the use of sewers and 
the disposition of garbage, rubbish, and all other species of 
refuse material depends upon efficient inspection and direct, 
energetic action following inspection. There are two kinds of 
sanitary inspection — routine and special. Routine inspection 
consists of a periodic check-up, by means of more or less regu¬ 
lar visitation, of the conditions in backyards, alleys, outbuild¬ 
ings, and other places deemed to be sources of danger. Special 
inspection consists of investigations made in response to com¬ 
plaints as to specific premises. Health officials encourage 
citizens to file complaints as to insanitary conditions in their 
neighborhood, for this is one of the most valuable sources of 
information and discloses many things that would not ordi¬ 
narily come within the purview of routine inspection. It goes 
without saying that the handling of such complaints is a delicate 
matter and calls for much tact and discretion. 

The protection of the city’s food supply is a task that taxes 
the resources of the health authorities to the limit, because 
there are so many possible avenues of infection to be guarded. 
Every drop of milk that comes into the city must be kept 
free from contamination all the way from source to consumer; 
all meat products must be compelled to r.un the gantlet of 
inspection; all bakery and confectionary products must be 
subjected to careful scrutiny; all food-handling establishments 
and their employees — groceries, delicatessen stores, restau¬ 
rants, hotels, and the like — must be kept under close sur¬ 
veillance. It is a titanic undertaking, and one that calls 


Sewerage 
and sani¬ 
tation 


Protecting 
the city’s 
food supply 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Milk and 
meat in¬ 
spection 


The regu¬ 
lation of 
food-handling 
establish¬ 
ments 


262 

for a considerable amount of technical proficiency as well as 
administrative energy and efficiency. 

The milk problem is met by legislation forbidding the sale 
of milk in the city without a license and requiring all milk 
sold to conform to specified standards as to butter fat, bac¬ 
terial count, and cleanliness. These requirements give the 
health authorities a basis for control through inspection and 
revocation of license in case of failure to comply with city 
standards. The inspection covers both production and retail¬ 
ing operations, and is reinforced by extensive laboratory serv¬ 
ice. The inspection of meat and other prepared foods is 
greatly aided in the United States by the pure food laws 
of the federal government and the efficient inspection which 
is incidental to the enforcement of these laws. But the fed¬ 
eral laws apply only to food commodities in interstate com¬ 
merce ; and a large quantity of foodstuffs is always distributed 
in every city which never enters into interstate commerce. 
Either the state government or the city government, and some¬ 
times both, must undertake to protect the people of the city 
against infection from these sources. The basic inspection in 
the case of meats and prepared foods usually takes place in 
the packing plants or factories where the food is prepared for 
retail distribution, and only guarantees that the product com¬ 
plies with the prescribed standards of purity and cleanliness 
when it leaves the place of production. 

The regulation of food-handling establishments is simple 
in theory, but difficult in practice. The law prescribes methods 
of handling and calls for the use of equipment that will pro¬ 
tect foodstuffs against exposure to contamination, and also 
forbids, as a rule, the employment of persons in any such 
establishment who may be afflicted with a communicable or 
otherwise dangerous or noisome disease. It is comparatively 
easy, for example, to force dealers to install fly-proof equip¬ 
ment; but to see that they actually use it effectively is another 
matter. Omnipresent inspection might do it, but such a thing 
is fantastic. The same thing is true of the regulations as to the 
health of employees in food-handling establishments. It is 
possible to require a medical examination as a prerequisite for 
entering upon such employment, and to require reexaminations 
at stated periods; but it is exceedingly difficult to carry out 
these requirements. There are thousands of food-handling 
establishments in a large city with many thousands of em- 


HEALTH AND PHYSICAL VIGOR 


263 


ployees. Most of these establishments have a large and rapid 
employment turn-over, and this makes it fairly easy to hood¬ 
wink the health authorities if one desires to do so. Further¬ 
more, employees may readily pass the prescribed examinations 
and later become afflicted with a disqualifying disease. Fre¬ 
quent examinations might offset this, but there are practical 
limits to the frequency with which examinations may be re¬ 
quired or given. 

Experience has shown that one of the most potent weapons 
of the health authorities in dealing with the food problem 
is publicity. People do not consume unwholesome and in¬ 
fected foods by preference, and they will boycott any firm that 
can be shown to be dealing in such commodities. It is only 
necessary to expose a few concerns to public disfavor to stimu¬ 
late a fairly prompt response on the part of all to the standards 
fixed by the health authorities. When cleanliness becomes 
a business asset, all food-handling businesses want to be clean. 
The chief value of inspection of such businesses is not neces¬ 
sarily, therefore, its comprehensiveness so much as its selective¬ 
ness. If it uncovers conditions upon which to hang a sweeping 
campaign of publicity, it has done about as much as though 
it were all-seeing, which it is not and never can be. 

The pollution of the air by smoke is more than a nuisance; 
it is now known to be a positive menace to health. Autopsical 
findings have shown that the respiratory organs of city dwel¬ 
lers are impaired by the continuous inhalation of the smoke 
and fumes which contaminate the air; and modern medical 
science is also inclined to the opinion that the smoke pall 
overhanging our great urban centers does great harm to health 
by cutting off the ultra-violet rays of the sun. For these rea¬ 
sons there has come a demand for the curbing of the smoke 
menace. A number of cities have enacted smoke prevention 
ordinances, but have not succeeded in making them sufficiently 
practicable to be effectively enforced. These ordinances deal 
with such matters as the construction and operation of boilers, 
flues, and smokestacks, and endeavor to regulate to some extent 
the types of fuel used and the manner of firing. It cannot be 
said that they have accomplished much as yet except to reduce 
the density of smoke at certain periods of the day. It may 
be that the future will solve the problem by the substitution 
of electricity for coal as a source of heat and power for domes¬ 
tic and industrial use, burning the coal at the mine and there 


The value of 
publicity 


The smoke 
problem 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Housing as 
a factor in 
health 


The problem 
of infant 
mortality 


264 

generating the electricity for transmission to the urban centers. 
But that solution does not seem to lie in the immediate future, 
and hence we must persevere in our efforts to eradicate the 
smoke nuisance. Incidentally the question is not without its 
economic aspects, it being evident that smoke is the cause of 
great losses through the deterioration of property and property 
values. 

The correction of housing conditions which are dangerous 
to health is a matter primarily of regulating the construction 
of buildings so as to insure adequate provision for light and 
air and sanitation and secondarily of controlling the utilization 
of land for building purposes so as to make provision for the 
open spaces which are necessary for light and air. This, 
in so far as it is a matter of building regulation, has already 
been touched upon, and in so far as it is a matter of city 
planning will be dealt with later. Much progress has been 
made in the stamping out of slums by the enactment of build¬ 
ing codes with an eye to health as well as safety, and we are 
beginning to see the fruits of city planning in zoning and 
matters related thereto. 

Infant mortality has always been one of the sad features of 
urban life. The city-born child up to five years of age has al¬ 
ways had a poorer chance of life than its country cousin, and 
urban rates of infant mortality have sometimes mounted to 
heights that suggested a slaughter of the innocents. One of the 
leading causes of infant mortality in cities has been the poor 
quality of the milk supply, but that has been largely corrected 
in late years. Other causes that still operate with largely un¬ 
abated force are the weakened condition of mothers, and hence 
of the unborn child, owing to industrial employment and im¬ 
proper living during pregnancy; the lack of proper obstetrical 
care at the time of lying-in; the neglect of the infant after birth 
owing to the necessity of its mother’s return to work; and the 
ignorance of the mothers, especially among the lower classes 
of people, as to the special care which infants require under 
modern urban conditions. These unhappy conditions are being 
counteracted in many ways. Laws have been enacted restrict¬ 
ing the hours of labor of women in industry and forbidding the 
employment of pregnant women within a reasonable period 
prior to confinement; and provision is sometimes made for a 
stipend to working mothers to cover the loss of incomes during 
pregnancy. Midwifery is being more closely regulated by law 


HEALTH AND PHYSICAL VIGOR 265 

than ever before; unlicensed midwives are forbidden to prac¬ 
tice, and licensed midwives are required to give evidence of 
competence and experience. Obstetrical service of the very 
highest scientific standards is being made available to the poor 
through the free work of great hospitals. Visiting nurse service 
is doing yeoman work in reaching into the homes of the igno¬ 
rant and unfortunate and giving mothers medical advice and 
assistance as to the care of themselves and their babies. Child 
clinics have been established in many cities, particularly in 
those portions of the city where the rate of infant mortality is 
the highest, and parents are urged to bring children to these 
institutions for examination and treatment. While these vari¬ 
ous endeavors have done much to reduce the urban rate 
of infant mortality, there is still much to be done. Only a por¬ 
tion of the population is reached by these services, and it will 
require the expenditure of many more millions of dollars before 
the rate of infant mortality can be brought down to a respect¬ 
able figure. Some day we may even feel that we can afford to 
be as generous in spending money for child-saving as we are in 
spending for war. 

It is not possible in the brief space available here to present 
anything like an adequate description of the auxiliary agencies 
with which the modern city is equipping itself in the war against 
disease. The most conspicuous of these are hospitals, sanato- 
riums, clinics, and laboratories. Hospitalization was for many 
years left almost entirely to private initiative; but the obvious 
inability of private initiative to meet all the needs, plus the 
woeful lack of coordination among private hospitals, has forced 
cities into the building and operation of hospitals on a huge 
scale. Municipal hospitals will never occupy the whole field, 
but they are coming to occupy the most exigent portion of it. 
What has been said of hospitals is equally true of sanatoriums, 
clinics, and laboratories. Millions of dollars are now being 
laid out on these undertakings, and more millions are urgently 
called for. The day of home care of the sick in the city has 
almost passed. Parlor, bedroom, and bath do not afford very 
extensive nursing facilities, and with an increasing proportion 
of the population of our cities coming to dwell in vest-pocket 
domiciles, the need for hospital facilities is greatly intensified. 
Moreover, occupational conditions-—the active employment 
outside the home of every possible member of the family — and 
the increased danger of spreading certain communicable dis- 


Institutional 
services for 
the promo¬ 
tion of health 


266 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The problem 
of premature 
physical de¬ 
cline 


eases in apartment and tenement houses are rendering home 
care impossible and undesirable. 

It is sad perhaps to picture the passing of the mother-nurse 
whose loving ministrations made sickness not all pain and 
whose vigils at the bedside have furnished inspiration for some 
of the most beautiful things our civilization has known. But 
sentiment cannot stay the forces which are so rapidly trans¬ 
forming our domestic institutions. Urban conditions are fast 
rendering home care of the sick as obsolete and anachronistic 
as blood-letting. The mother-nurse is doomed to go. It is in 
the cards. A few more generations and sick children in the big 
cities will see Mother only as a visitor at the hospital. They 
will recover from their illnesses in greater proportions perhaps 
than ever before; but they will have missed something too — 
something that the elders of their day will cherish as a most 
priceless memory. 

We come now to the problem of what may be called pre¬ 
mature physical decline. It is a known fact that urban life, 
unless mitigated by sanative measures, has a degenerating 
effect upon the human body. The breathing of impure air, 
the want of the tonic benefits of sunlight, the lack of proper 
exercise, the consumption of improper, if not impure, foods, the 
nervous strain induced by the unremitting tensity of city life 
— these and various other abnormalities (from the physiolog¬ 
ical standpoint) of city life combine to produce a tendency 
towards premature old age in the physical sense. The mind 
may be young — younger indeed than the rural mind at the 
same age — and the body may be young in years; but the 
heart, the arteries, the kidneys, the alimentary system, and 
other vital parts of the human machine are old — very old — 
because of the excessive labor that has been laid upon them. 
The appalling increase of heart disease during the past four 
or five decades illustrates the point. A great many technical 
explanations are advanced to account for this; but the simple 
fact is that there are many more sixty-year hearts in forty- 
year bodies than there used to be, the heart having done 
sixty years of work in forty years’ time. And what is true of 
the heart is true of other vital organs of the body. Urban life 
overspeeds the machine and causes its parts to wear out faster. 

There is no sovereign remedy for this. We cannot slow 
down the processes of city life — we would not wish to do that 
if we could — but certain alleviative measures may be em- 


HEALTH AND PHYSICAL VIGOR 


267 

ployed to counteract the tendency towards premature physical 
decline. Not the least important of these is medical service 
in the schools. The bend of the twig determines the inclination 
of the bough; the foundations of health must be laid in child¬ 
hood. The child that reaches maturity with a good physical 
equipment has a better chance of a long and healthy life than 
one with defective bodily equipment; and we know that the 
city child needs a sounder physical equipment, relatively speak¬ 
ing, than the country child, because his body must function un¬ 
der more adverse conditions —• conditions which place heavier 
burdens upon the vital organs. Medical service in the schools 
is of course a valuable aid in combating communicable diseases; 
but its greatest value is to discover and correct physical de¬ 
fects which would lead to future impairment of health and 
working capacity. As now conducted, school medical service 
covers a wide range of activities. Eyes, ears, teeth, tonsils, 
heart, and lungs are given special attention. The children 
are subjected to periodic examinations by competent practi¬ 
tioners. Defects discovered by these examinations are re¬ 
ported to parents or guardians, who are urged to have them 
corrected. Parents are usually expected to have this work 
done by private practitioners; but it has been deemed advisa¬ 
ble in many places to provide for having it done at public 
expense, either in public clinics or by private practitioners at 
the expense of the public. Such assistance should be reserved 
for those who cannot afford to have the work done privately. 

• Teachers are now required in many cities to make a daily 
check of health conditions among their pupils, and school 
nurses are employed to make the rounds daily and assist the 
teacher. The teacher’s examination is in no sense a careful ex¬ 
amination but is simply a casual inspection for the purpose of 
detecting apparently abnormal conditions that should receive 
further attention. The teacher refers all children having indi¬ 
cations of sickness to the school nurse, who makes a more 
rigid examination. The nurse decides whether the case needs 
medical observation. The modern policy is to keep children 
out of school until there is definite assurance that they are not 
suffering from contagious diseases, and to use every possible 
means to see that they receive the proper corrective treat¬ 
ment for illnesses and disabilities of a non-communicable 
character. 

Nutritional troubles among school children have received 


Counteract¬ 
ing physical 
decline 


Medical 
service in 
the schools 


Medical 
examina¬ 
tions in the 
schools 


268 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


School feed¬ 
ing 


Health 

education 


Adult popu¬ 
lation diffi¬ 
cult to reach 


much attention of recent years. Malnutrition, it has been 
discovered, results not only from insufficient feeding but also 
from improper feeding. Children of the better circumstanced 
classes of people suffer from malnutrition almost as frequently 
as those of the poorer classes. Malnutrition is such an insidious 
and permanent menace to health that many cities have made 
provision for school feeding to supplement the feeding of the 
child at home. School feeding does not undertake to supplant 
home feeding, but merely to supply the food values that are 
most generally neglected in home feeding. 

Mention should be made also of the goitre prevention work 
in the schools that has been undertaken by many cities in the 
goitre belt. To compensate the iodine deficiency which is the 
alleged cause of goitre, provision is made, under competent 
medical supervision, to supply to the children at certain ages 
the necessary quantities of iodine in forms that can be easily 
taken. Health education is one of the definite objects of school 
medical service, and is one of its most valuable and lasting 
results. No person of middle age who compares what he as a 
school child was taught about the care of the human body 
with what the school children of today are taught can fail to 
be struck by the progress that has been made. The schools 
of the present day may not teach descriptive physiology any 
better than was done forty or fifty years ago; but when it 
comes to practical hygiene, the child of today gets instruction 
that was entirely denied to his forebears. In another decade 
or two the effect of this instruction is bound to tell tremen¬ 
dously in the state of public health. 

In dealing with persons beyond school age the campaign 
to prevent premature physical deterioration ceases to have the 
advantage of a definite point of attack. Much is being done, 
as we have already seen, to improve the physical environment 
of the modern urbanite — to better housing conditions, to 
purify water and food supplies, to eradicate filth, etc. — but 
little has been done that reaches the adult individual directly, 
as school medical service reaches the child. Persistent public 
health education by public agencies and by private organiza¬ 
tions has undoubtedly penetrated the consciousness of our 
urban populations; but to what degree and with what results, 
it is possible only to guess. Hospital, clinical, and laboratory 
services have certainly had some influence in raising general 
standards of personal hygiene; but the exact weight of this in- 


HEALTH AND PHYSICAL VIGOR 


269 

fluence can never be known. The most concrete achievements 
making for the betterment of urban physique and for its forti¬ 
fication against premature decline have not been in the field of 
medicine and hygiene, but in the field of recreation. By the 
provision of recreational facilities and the stimulation and or¬ 
ganization of recreational activities the modern city has made 
it possible for the urbanite to build up his physical resources, 
maintain his native vigor, and thus combat the menace of 
untimely physical decline. 

Recreation is a broad term. It means more than play, more 
than bodily exercise, more than entertainment and amusement. 
It signifies in the broadest sense all those activities and proc¬ 
esses whereby tired minds and bodies are refreshed and re¬ 
newed, whereby reduced vitality is restored, whereby Nature’s 
requirements as to sheer animal activity may be met. Recrea¬ 
tion is both a physical and a psychological necessity, and we 
are coming to recognize that it is likewise a social necessity, an 
indispensable factor in the upbuilding of social solidarity and 
community consciousness. By their play, as well as by their 
works, shall ye know them. 

City government of a generation ago recognized little or no 
obligation as to public recreation. Except for a few conspicu¬ 
ous idlers, the elders were prone to regard all forms of recrea¬ 
tion as puerile, if not sinful; youth, if it must be diverted, could 
find plenty of opportunity for recreation in the open yards sur¬ 
rounding residences, on the numerous vacant lots, or in the 
open country which was not far distant. A few parks were laid 
out, more for decorative purposes and to gratify civic vanity 
than for recreational purposes. In the larger cities there were 
districts where yard-space and vacant lots did not exist, where 
the streets and alleys furnished the only space available for 
recreation; but out where the “ better folks ” lived it was not 
so, and who cared about the children of the slums? But the 
prodigious growth of cities and its concomitant changes in 
popular mores has profoundly altered the recreation question. 
A salutary hedonism has taken possession of the popular mind; 
we are no longer content to live in cities that afford no relief 
from the daily grind of mechanical civilization. We have seen 
open yards and vacant lots give way before the multiple dwell¬ 
ing; we have seen the forests and streams of the countryside 
brought under fence; we have seen the automobile destroy the 
safety of the streets; we have seen our prisons crowded with 


Recreation 
and health 


Recreation 
was neglected 
in cities of 
the past. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The duties 
of the city 
with regard 
to recrea¬ 
tion 


Parks 


2 70 

youthful offenders who never had a chance for wholesome rec¬ 
reation; and we have seen our insane hospitals and asylums 
filled to overflowing with persons who have cracked under the 
remorseless strain of urban life. Small wonder that we have 
become enthusiastic about recreation; that we have advanced 
it to the front rank of municipal functions! 

The first duty of the modern city with regard to recreation is 
to furnish facilities. These include parks, playgrounds, golf 
courses, tennis courts, swimming pools, bath houses, beaches, 
boulevards, gymnasiums, dance halls, and almost every other 
type of recreational utility that the imagination can picture. 
By no means all cities as yet supply their inhabitants with a 
complete outlay of recreational facilities, but all are moving 
in that direction. Private enterprise may supplement public 
facilities, but the full needs of the people can never be met by 
private action. The second duty of the city as to recreation 
pertains to the proper utilization of the facilities provided. 
Not only is it necessary to have custodians and caretakers, 
but also to have skilled and trained directors of recreational 
activity. All recreation involving games, especially competitive 
games, must be organized and supervised so as to get the maxi¬ 
mum use of the facilities and to avoid friction and trouble 
among the participants. All recreation involving physical haz¬ 
ards of any kind must be supervised to insure the safety of the 
participants. The third responsibility of the city in the field 
of recreation is the regulation and supervision of commercial 
recreation. Commercial recreation — amusements parks, dance 
halls, night clubs, theaters, pool rooms, cafes, etc. — is not 
inherently bad; but the intensity of competition often leads 
the proprietors of such establishments to tolerate or even en¬ 
courage dangerously immoral practices. For this reason com¬ 
mercial recreation must be subjected to close municipal super¬ 
vision. A few words about each of these three fundamental 
tasks of the city in respect to recreation will make clear the 
magnitude of the city’s responsibility. 

Parks take the lead in municipal recreation facilities; it is a 
rare city indeed that has not taken steps to build up a fairly 
adequate park system. The closing up of the open spaces in 
both town and country has made the provision of parks im¬ 
perative. The modem park is more than a gem of landscaping 
ornamented with “ Keep Off The Grass ” signs. We are sub¬ 
ordinating beauty to utility — no, reconciling beauty and util- 


HEALTH AND PHYSICAL VIGOR 


271 

ity, discovering that there need be no fundamental incompati¬ 
bility between them. The modern park is planned for the 
every-day use of the people — for driving, hiking, horseback 
riding, picnicking, playing games, and less strenuous forms of 
diversion and relaxation. The grass and flowers may suffer 
somewhat as a consequence; but if the landscaping was de¬ 
signed in the first place with a view to combining beauty with 
utility, use can never mar the fundamental loveliness of the 
park. Modem authorities on municipal recreation have laid 
down the rule that there should be about one acre of park 
space for every two hundred inhabitants. The more important 
consideration, however, is not so much the aggregate park 
acreage as its distribution. Many a city has an aggregate 
acreage more than sufficient to meet the needs of its people, 
but so located as to be inaccessible and unserviceable to a large 
proportion of the population. What is needed is a system of 
parks so planned as to area and location as to satisfy the needs 
of all. The newer cities have been remarkably successful in 
developing splendidly articulated systems of large central parks, 
and smaller neighborhood parks linked up with beautiful drives 
and boulevards; but the older cities have found it prohibitively 
difficult and expensive to recast the solidified lineaments of city 
plan so as to make such a system of parks possible. Of late 
years there has come a demand for “ natural ” parks; that is 
to say, for making accessible to the people the beauties of na¬ 
ture in the virgin state. To satisfy this demand many cities 
have found it necessary to acquire large tracts of land outside 
their corporate boundaries. This frequently involves the in¬ 
terests of several municipalities and requires the formation of 
metropolitan park districts. 

Playgrounds, beaches, swimming pools, stadiums, open-air 
theaters, botanical and zoological gardens, and the like are 
usually developed in so far as possible as integral parts of the 
park system. Where this is feasible, it is the sound procedure; 
but circumstances often justify the provision of special facili¬ 
ties in the way of playgrounds, swimming pools, and bath 
houses in locations where regular parks are not possible. The 
tremendous development of interest in athletic games during 
the past two decades has created an embarrassing demand for 
all sorts of playfields. No city has half enough tennis courts, 
golf links, baseball grounds, football fields, and other such 
facilities for athletic sports. It takes money in large quanti- 


Playgrounds 


The adminis¬ 
tration of 
recreation 


272 URBAN DEMOCRACY 

ties to provide these facilities; but the investment pays such 
large dividends, not only in better health, but in better citizen¬ 
ship as well, that we cannot afford to be niggardly in these out¬ 
lays. 

The provision by the municipal government of gymnasiums, 
dance halls, auditoriums, and other facilities for indoor recrea¬ 
tion has barely begun in the United States although it has been 
common in European cities for many years. Private enterprise 
has supplied these things in the United States in so far as they 
have been supplied at all; but private enterprise is dependent 
either upon benevolence or upon the earnings of the enterprise 
itself, and both of these methods of financing have decided 
limitations. 

In the administration of municipal recreational facilities 
there are two major problems: (i) that of the custody and 
care of grounds, buildings, and equipment, and (2) that of 
educating, directing, and supervising the public in the use of 
recreational facilities. It requires a large force of custodians 
and caretakers to look after the up-keep of parks, playgrounds, 
swimming pools, and the various other physical facilities for 
recreation. Janitors, watchmen, gardeners, foresters, and spe¬ 
cial workers of many other kinds must be employed and or¬ 
ganized into an efficient force. This, however, is mainly a mat¬ 
ter of personnel management, which is a subject that has already 
been treated in this volume at some length. The second prob¬ 
lem of recreational administration is much the more difficult. 
To find a body of persons competent to supervise recreation 
is a most difficult task, first, because the supply of such per¬ 
sons is definitely limited, and, second, because the work is so 
seasonal that it is next to impossible to build up anything 
like a permanent working force. The supervision and direction 
of games, among both adults and children, is a task that calls 
for experience, leadership, and tact. Persons possessing these 
qualifications are not easy to obtain with the meager salaries 
usually paid by municipal recreation departments; and when 
they are obtainable the seasonal character of the employment 
makes it hard to weld them into an efficient working force. 
Perhaps the most successful method of surmounting these ob¬ 
stacles has been to maintain a small permanent force as a nu¬ 
cleus and to expand this as the seasonal demand increases by 
school teachers, college students, social workers, and other 
persons who may be available for part-time employment. By 


HEALTH AND PHYSICAL VIGOR 273 

employing the same part-time workers year after year it is 
possible to approximate a permanent recreational staff. 

The regulation of commercial recreation has come to be 
one of the most important of the city’s responsibilities in 
recreational matters. A very large proportion, possibly a 
major part, of the city’s population seeks recreation in (pre¬ 
sumably) soft-drink parlors, pool rooms, night clubs, dance 
halls, theaters, and various other pleasure resorts that are 
operated on a commercial basis. It is a well-known fact that 
these institutions are prone to degenerate into centers of crime 
and immorality unless they are subjected to rigorous public 
supervision and control. The usual method of control is by li¬ 
cense and inspection. The license controls the right to continue 
in business. It is granted upon the condition that the holder 
of the license conduct his establishment in strict conformity 
with the law, and may be summarily revoked if he is shown 
to be derelict in the enforcement of proper standards. The 
police are required to keep these places under close observation 
and report any untoward conditions found by them; and for 
dance halls, amusement parks, and some other pleasure resorts 
special inspectors on continuous duty while the place is open 
are found to be necessary. 

Up to this point our discussion of the problem of health and 
physical vigor in urban life has proceeded from the functional 
angle, dealing but incidentally with matters of administrative 
machinery. It is quite obvious, of course, that the activities 
which have come within the purview of the discussion could 
not be administered by a single department. As a matter 
of fact they are usually found to be distributed among several 
different departments — the health department, the park de¬ 
partment, the school board, the police department, the water 
department, the engineering and public works departments, 
and so on. Yet it is desirable and important, because they 
all deal with one fundamental problem and contribute to the 
same end, that they should be more closely correlated than 
they are in actual practice. It would not do to lump them all 
into a single department; but it is likewise bad to keep them 
inseparably insulated. This suggests again the value of the 
staff and line plan of administrative organization which was 
described in Chapter XV. 


Regulating 

commercial 

recreation 


Depart¬ 
mental 
organization 
for recrea¬ 
tion 


274 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Selected References 

A. C. Hanford, Problems in Municipal Government, Chap. XIX. 
W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. II, 
Chaps. XXIX, XXXV. 

L. D. Upson, The Practice of Municipal Administration, Chaps. 
XV, XVII. 

J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chaps. 
XXIX, XXXV. 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. If there were a case of smallpox in the apartment building in 
which you live, what would you wish the health authorities to do? 

2. What information must the city health authorities have in 
order to deal effectively with communicable diseases? From what 
sources must this information come? 

3. In what ways does recreation aid in promoting better public 
health in urban areas? 

4. Do you think the increasing tendency of city people to dine at 
public eating houses makes it harder or easier for the health authori¬ 
ties to protect the city’s food supply? 

5. Why is it more necessary to have extensive hospital facilities 
in the city than in the country? 


CHAPTER XIX 

EDUCATION AND CULTURAL BETTERMENT 

Thinking is indispensable to human progress: that is a 
threadbare platitude—but why and how do we think? How 
can we be sure that man will continue to be distinguished from 
all other creatures by his ability to apply his intelligence to 
modifying and controlling the phenomena of nature as they 
relate to human needs and purposes? Thinking is not a self- 
engendered process. A person devoid from birth of sight, hear¬ 
ing, and feeling could never think, even though he might have 
the massive brain of a philosopher, because there would be no 
way of galvanizing his brain cells into action. The human 
brain is somewhat like a storage battery in that it must be 
charged and activated from without before it is capable of re¬ 
leasing its power. That is why education (using the term in its 
broadest sense) is so vital a factor in the progress of the race. 
Education is the process of stimulating intelligent mental activ¬ 
ity, and intelligent mental activity is the means by which man 
has achieved dominion over his environment. Only an edu¬ 
cated people can survive in the struggle for existence. It is 
easy to understand, therefore, why education has become one 
of the primary concerns of government. 

Education is also of vast importance from a political and 
economic standpoint. During the last century the governments 
of the world have been moving rapidly in the direction of 
democracy, and democracy presupposes popular control of gov¬ 
ernment. The way in which the masses of people rise to this 
opportunity and discharge its responsibilities depends almost 
entirely upon the character and extent of their education. An 
uneducated people cannot govern themselves, even though they 
may have won the right to do so. Good citizenship and educa¬ 
tion go hand in hand. Therefore every people who would rule 
themselves must use their government to provide education for 
all the people, of such kind and in such measure as will enable 
them to utilize advantageously the political power which democ- 

275 


The social 
importance 
of education 


The political 
and economic 
importance of 
education 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Education is 
primarily a 
function of 
the central 
government. 


276 

racy has bestowed upon them. The common theory is that 
democracy stands for equality of opportunity as well as equal¬ 
ity of political right; and it is perfectly obvious that if there 
is to be such a thing as equality of opportunity, it must come 
from equality of educational privilege. 

Then, too, education is a controlling factor in the economic 
progress of a people. Needless to say, the capacity of a people 
to utilize the resources of nature, to develop and apply the tech¬ 
nical processes which are necessary for the fullest fruition of 
trade and industry, to build and maintain the complicated 
social institutions which are requisite for economic advance¬ 
ment depend upon the extent and reality of their education. 
It is no mere coincidence that the most successful peoples in 
the struggle for economic ascendancy—for markets, trade 
routes, financial dominion, industrial supremacy, etc. — are the 
best educated peoples. Compare Japan with China, Germany 
with Russia, France with Italy, Great Britain with Spain (her 
quondam rival for world supremacy), the United States with 
Mexico. Making every possible allowance for inequalities as 
to natural resources and advantages (in some cases the less 
successful country has been much more favored by nature), it 
must nevertheless be admitted that something must be attrib¬ 
uted to differences — profound differences they are — in the 
education of the people. 

Education is nowhere regarded as strictly a function of local 
government. On the contrary, it is a function for which the 
central government assumes primary responsibility and control, 
merely delegating to local authorities certain functions of ad¬ 
ministration under general law. This is true in both Europe 
and the United States. The central government determines 
the organization of the local school authorities, prescribes in 
part at least the curricula of the schools, fixes the qualifications 
of teachers, establishes standards for school buildings and 
equipment, and maintains a large degree of financial control 
over local school affairs. In European countries, particularly 
in France, Germany, and Italy, central control goes much far¬ 
ther than this — so far at times as to destroy every vestige of 
local autonomy. 

It is not often that city government as such is vested with 
direct responsibility for the administration of the public school 
system of the city. England is the only country in which this 
is universally true. There the management of city schools is 


EDUCATION AND CULTURE 277 

entrusted to the municipal (borough) council which acts, in 
this as in all other matters, largely through a standing com¬ 
mittee. The council also appoints a board of managers for the 
immediate direction of the elementary schools. However, all 
of the work of the city government in educational matters is 
carried out under the general educational laws of the country 
and the regulations promulgated thereunder by the national 
ministry of education. In France the department, not the 
commune, is the administrative unit for public schools. The 
prefect appoints the teachers and other officials, and the de¬ 
partmental council regulates school affairs — all under the im¬ 
mediate control of the national ministry of education at Paris. 
The municipalities (communes) are required to provide school 
buildings, but the instructional force is paid by the national 
government. In Germany the province and the administrative 
county are the basic units for school administration. The pro¬ 
vincial and county school boards, under the control of the cen¬ 
tral ministry of education, practically dominate the operation 
of the school system. Each city has a school deputation, joint 
commission, or board, as it may be variously called, which has 
powers of a minor and advisory character. It may, for ex¬ 
ample, nominate teachers from a list supplied by the central 
authorities or provide buildings and equipment with the sanc¬ 
tion of the central powers. In the United States the school 
system is usually distinct from the city government. It is cus¬ 
tomary for a school district to be organized as a separate cor¬ 
poration with financial and other powers quite independent of 
the city. The boundaries of the school district may or may 
not be coextensive with those of the city. The school district 
has its own system of government — usually a board of educa¬ 
tion elected by the voters. This is the rule in about three- 
fourths of the cities of the country; in the remainder the school 
boards are chosen by the mayor of the city, the city council, or 
the local courts. The degree of control over school affairs re¬ 
sulting from the appointment of school board members by mu¬ 
nicipal authorities varies considerably. In New York City the 
mayor appoints the members of the board of education, and 
the appropriations for the support of schools are granted by the 
board of aldermen upon recommendation of the board of esti¬ 
mate and apportionment. This is far more control over school 
affairs than most city governments have even where the mem¬ 
bers of the school board are chosen by the city government. It 


The relation 
of city 
government 
to the public 
education 
system 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Complica¬ 
tions result¬ 
ing from 
divided con¬ 
trol 


The problem 
of adapting 
educational 
policies to 
urban needs 


278 

is customary to give the school board considerable financial in¬ 
dependence, even though keeping it politically dependent upon 
the city government. 

Our interest here is not in the technicalities of school organi¬ 
zation and administration, but in education as an urban prob¬ 
lem. The fact that schools of the city are more or less com¬ 
pletely removed from the jurisdiction of the city government 
may simplify that problem in some respects, but in some ways 
it is infinitely complicating. Where the central government 
keeps the reins entirely in its own hands, leaving to the munici¬ 
pality the function of cooperating in matters of secondary im¬ 
portance, local needs and local problems must all be carried to 
the central authorities. Where school administration is con¬ 
fided to a separate local corporation, as the school district in 
the United States, there are exceedingly troublesome problems 
of duplication and non-cooperation. The English system pos¬ 
sesses the admirable virtue of avoiding both horns of the 
dilemma, providing for the complete integration of education 
with other processes of municipal government and at the same 
time for generous local autonomy in educational matters under 
central supervision. In the United States we have the local au¬ 
tonomy but not the organic unity of local administrative ma¬ 
chinery. We are afraid to entrust education to our city govern¬ 
ments because we distrust municipal government and municipal 
politics. We wish to keep education out of politics, or politics 
out of education (it amounts to the same thing), and we feel 
that this may be accomplished by detaching school government 
from the municipal government proper. It does not always 
work out that way: school district and school board politics fre¬ 
quently prove to be even more vicious than the regular brand 
of municipal politics. 

Educational policy is the thing of vital importance, impor¬ 
tant though educational government may be. The little red 
schoolhouse where the three R’s were so efficiently and roman¬ 
tically taught, to the mind of Mr. Henry Ford and other remi¬ 
niscent folk of the present day, was a rural institution. It 
would not be wholly unsuited to rural conditions even today. 
But the little red schoolhouse and its simple program were 
never suited to urban conditions. The country boy gets a large 
part of his education outside the schoolroom, and it is real 
education, too. Nature reveals her secrets to him, supplies him 
with a priceless fund of practical knowledge; he acquires skill 


EDUCATION AND CULTURE 


279 

in the use of tools, disciplines his mind as well as his body with 
the practical mechanics of husbandry; bargaining, trading, 
“ dickering,” and other wit-sharpening exercises are a part of 
his daily experience from early childhood; emergencies of all 
kinds are common on the farm, and he learns how to meet 
them; from infancy to maturity he is an integral part of a 
highly educative system of life. Experience opens her pages to 
him, and teaches him many of life’s most valuable lessons. 
Crowning this education with a thorough discipline in the three 
R’s makes him a fairly well educated man. The city boy has 
no such advantages. Unless thrown on to the streets to make 
his way, he spends his youthful years in an artificial and often 
very sheltered world. And even when he is obliged to shift for 
himself, the experience he gains on the streets of the city does 
not have the all-around educative value of the farm boy’s. It is 
narrowing, distorting, warping. 

The city schools are therefore called upon to do more edu¬ 
cating than the country schools. City life is highly organized, 
complicated, artificial, and enormously competitive. The three 
R’s and the other common branches do not afford an adequate 
education for city life any more than they would for country 
life if they constituted the principal or sole education of coun¬ 
try youth. Academic education embracing all the traditional 
subjects is still necessary and valuable, but it no longer monop¬ 
olizes the school curriculum as formerly. Using the three R’s 
as a foundation, the schools of the modern city undertake to 
give a course of training that will enable the youth of the city 
to fit naturally into the urban scheme of things. Drawing, 
manual training, metal working, domestic science, domestic 
art, and music are taught as cultural subjects, with the object 
primarily of broadening the experience and stimulating latent 
abilities and interests. Nature study has become a veritable 
fetish, so impoverished is the city child in his contacts with 
nature. Physical training and health education receive a con¬ 
stantly increasing amount of attention, and civic training is 
coming to be stressed above all things else. By these additions 
to the school curriculum we are striving to give the city child 
something of the same all-around development that the country 
child acquires very largely through experience, and to do it 
more completely and more perfectly than it can be done in the 
school of experience alone. 

City schools are also becoming acutely conscious of another 


What the 
city schools 
must do 


2 8o 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Growing im¬ 
portance of 
vocational 
training 


The special¬ 
ized and 
selective 
character of 
urban school 
systems 


obligation that does not rest with equal weight upon the country 
schools — namely, vocational training. Undoubtedly the coun¬ 
try child can learn much about agriculture from the special 
courses in agricultural training that are now being offered in 
many of the rural schools; but his fundamental training comes 
from experience on the farm, and the schools merely endeavor 
to supplement this and round it out. But the daily experience 
of the city child does not fit him for or lead him to any definite 
vocation. The schools, therefore, have assumed the responsi¬ 
bility of vocational training. In all of our large cities now we 
have trade schools, technical schools, commercial schools, art 
schools; and if special schools have not been established, we 
find vocational courses — typewriting, shorthand, bookkeeping, 
printing, mechanics, electrical work — invading the regular 
schools and threatening to monopolize the curriculum. 

More and more the tendency is towards specialization and 
selection. Academic training leading through high school to 
the colleges and universities is still available; but it is not 
for the great mass of pupils who crowd our city schools. Most 
of these are bound to be shunted off, either by their own choice 
or by selective processes which demonstrate their lack of quali¬ 
fication for higher education, into vocational schools and voca¬ 
tional training courses. This does not mearf that the city has 
no obligation as to higher education. It has. Higher educa¬ 
tion is a matter of vast importance to the city. The city must 
depend upon higher education to develop that higher leader¬ 
ship which is essential to municipal progress; but that is no 
reason why it should neglect those who are not qualified for 
careers that require higher education. In the past the city 
schools had little to offer the child whose limitations debarred 
him from a professional career. Today they have much to 
offer that child. They are undertaking to teach him to make 
the most of the faculties he has. If he does not have the capac¬ 
ity to make an engineer, he may have the capacity to make an 
excellent mechanic, and the city needs good mechanics just as 
much as it needs good engineers, and more of them. If 
he does not have the capacity to make a financier, he may 
have the capacity to make a fine bookkeeper, and bookkeepers 
are just as necessary in business as financiers. So in the various 
other fields of endeavor; there are those whose abilities qualify 
them for work requiring intellectual attainments, and there 
are those whose abilities qualify them for work requiring man- 


EDUCATION AND CULTURE 


281 


ual dexterity or concrete facility. Justice demands that both 
types be given an opportunity to develop themselves to the 
fullest extent of their respective capacities. 

Higher education in the city is represented by normal schools, 
junior colleges, and universities. Many of the larger cities 
have found it necessary to establish normal schools for teacher¬ 
training in order to be able to staff their public school systems 
properly. The state normal schools find it impossible to adapt 
their curricula directly to the needs of the city, and oftentimes 
cannot supply graduates in sufficient numbers to furnish the 
city schools with teachers of requisite preparation and experi¬ 
ence. The junior college is a relatively recent development, 
and provides for that growing number of high school graduates 
who need or desire advanced training but cannot go away 
to college. It offers two years of collegiate work. Municipal 
universities are not very numerous, but promise to become 
so if the demand for collegiate training continues to increase. 
Very few cities of 100,000 or more inhabitants cannot afford 
to support a municipal university if it is properly correlated 
with the existing educational facilities of the city. Nearly 
every large city possesses the basic ingredients of a university 
in its library and high school systems; and these could be 
organized for university work without serious difficulty. The 
junior college movement promises much along this line. 

Most large cities now provide special educational facilities 
for the blind, the deaf, the crippled, the mentally defective, 
and other classes of persons afflicted with handicaps that unfit 
them for the regular procedure of the public schools. Many 
of these unfortunates can be rendered wholly or partially self- 
supporting if given the proper educational training. Adult 
education is another of the newer ventures of the school system 
in the United States. This work usually begins with night 
classes in English and citizenship for foreigners, but soon 
branches out, under the spur of popular demand, until it comes 
to include many of the subjects that are taught in the day 
schools. So complete is the work of the night schools in some 
of the larger cities that it is possible for a person to obtain 
a pretty fair education by going to school only at night. Other 
forms of adult education, less systematic and exacting than 
night school courses, are lectures, concerts, exhibits, and vari¬ 
ous other attractions that are conducted in conjunction with 
the school system. Some school boards have gone so far as to 


Higher 
education in 
the city 


Special 

educational 

services 


282 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Cultural 

betterment 


The public 
library 


Galleries and 
museums 


establish regular series of lectures, concerts, and so on, entirely 
underwritten by the public treasury. 

The school system, however, is designed primarily for the 
young, and its methods of instruction are on the whole formal 
and didactic. There is need for another type of education, less 
formal and methodical, which for the want of a more precise 
term we may call cultural betterment. By cultural better¬ 
ment we mean improving the capacity of the people to under¬ 
stand, appreciate, and enjoy the arts and sciences which have 
done so much for the enrichment of human life — literature, 
drama, music, painting, sculpture, natural history, anthropol¬ 
ogy, etc. The institutions which render this sort of service 
to the community are libraries, museums, art galleries, thea¬ 
ters, auditoriums, orchestras, and the like. In Europe such 
institutions have been publicly supported and maintained 
for many years, but it is only recently that a similar develop¬ 
ment has taken place in the United States. 

The public library is the most universal institution for cul¬ 
tural betterment. Nearly every self-respecting municipality 
now has its public library. It is primarily a medium for the 
circulation of fiction — and none too good fiction either — 
but it has its quota of non-fictional works, usually classics and 
standard reference works. Public libraries have greatly wid¬ 
ened the scope of their activities during the last few decades. 
Many of them conduct special reference and research serv¬ 
ices for business and professional men. Nearly all of them 
have special collections and specially trained librarians for 
children. Women’s clubs, reading circles, and other organiza¬ 
tions with cultural objects find special service awaiting them 
at the library. Libraries often present art exhibits and some¬ 
times commercial and industrial exhibits. In the larger cities 
the work of the library has become so voluminous that it 
has been necessary to establish a chain of branch libraries 
serving all parts of the city. The public library system is usu¬ 
ally under the government of a library board whose members 
are appointed by the mayor of the city. Appropriations for 
the support of the library are generally made by the city 
council. 

Municipally owned and conducted art galleries and museums 
are not uncommon in Europe, but in the United States they 
are rather rare. Art is not yet regarded as a public necessity 
in this country; hence the feeling that institutions devoted to 


EDUCATION AND CULTURE 283 

art should be supplied by private enterprise. The same thing 
is true of theaters and concert halls, but, curiously enough, 
not of great civic auditoriums. The “ auditorium wave ” has 
swept over this country during the past two decades, and at 
the present time there is scarcely a city of magnitude in the 
country that has not built or is not making plans for building 
a huge civic auditorium capable of seating several thousand 
persons. These buildings are principally used for great con¬ 
ventions and expositions, but are also employed for pageants, 
theatricals, grand opera, orchestra concerts, and athletic events. 
Civic vanity, spurred on by commercial interests likely to 
profit from the drawing of great crowds to the city, is largely 
responsible for this remarkable development in public owner¬ 
ship. Municipally supported orchestras are exceptional in the 
United States, but in European cities the orchestra is regarded 
as a regular municipal institution with just as good claims 
on the public purse as any other municipal institution. 
American cities quite frequently support brass bands, or pay 
them for giving concerts in the public parks; but orchestras 
have not yet advanced so high in popular favor. 

Perhaps it will not be amiss, in concluding this chapter, to 
make a few remarks about private educational institutions. 
Some of the most valuable educational work that is being done 
is in the hands of private institutions. Private schools — 
elementary, intermediate, secondary, and collegiate — flourish 
in considerable numbers in all cities. Some of these are paro¬ 
chial schools supported by religious denominations, and others 
are entirely undenominational. The denominational institu¬ 
tion flourishes because it offers religious training, which is be¬ 
yond the scope of public education. Other private schools are 
conducted for profit, or are maintained by philanthropic per¬ 
sons who are interested in special types of educational work. 
The city and state school authorities do not as a rule have any 
jurisdiction over these institutions except to see that they 
comply with the general requirements of the educational code 
as to work which is to be accepted by the public authorities 
in lieu of public school work. 

Private libraries, museums, and art galleries exist in great 
numbers. Most of these, in all except ownership and adminis¬ 
tration, are public institutions. They are open to the public 
without charge (at least part of the time), and are established 
for the performance of a public service. 


Other cul¬ 
tural institu¬ 
tions 


Private edu¬ 
cational in¬ 
stitutions 


284 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Selected References 

A. C. Hanford, Problems in Municipal Government, Chap. XXI. 
C. C. Maxey, Readings in Municipal Government, Chap. XII. 

W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. II, 
Chap. XXXVIII. 

L. D. Upson, The Practice of Municipal Administration, Chap. XVI. 
J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chap. 
XXXVIII. 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Is extensive education of all classes of people more essential 
in an urban than in a rural democracy? 

2. Do you think the English system of educational organization 
and administration would work under American conditions? 

3. Is the modern movement for adult education an unwarranted 
extravagance? 


CHAPTER XX 

ECONOMIC PROTECTION AND ASSISTANCE 

Nothing shows more strikingly the distance travelled by 
urban society in the direction of socialization than the pater¬ 
nalistic activities of modern city government in furtherance 
of the economic well-being of the people. The propriety of 
political paternalism in matters of safety, health, and education 
has never been seriously challenged; but matters having to do 
with the provision of food, clothing, shelter, and other material 
requirements of life have, until recent years, been deemed 
outside the proper scope of governmental activity. The 
eighteenth century doctrine of laissez jaire was predicated 
upon the hypothesis that individual initiative was fundamen¬ 
tally more competent than collective action to solve the prob¬ 
lems of economic life, and that governmental intervention in 
x the economic sphere was, therefore, both unsound and dele¬ 
terious. Individual freedom should be subjected to govern¬ 
mental restrictions only to such an extent as might be neces¬ 
sary to preserve the integrity of the social fabric; and since 
it was readily apparent that safety, health, and education were 
prime necessities for social stability and perpetuity, govern¬ 
mental limitations upon individual freedom for the advance¬ 
ment of these objects were grudgingly admitted to be necessary 
and proper. Economic well-being, however, was not regarded 
as a matter of prime concern to society; each individual was 
deemed fully able to safeguard and promote his economic wel¬ 
fare without the assistance of organized society. 

The urbanization of the modern world has done much to 
shatter this comfortable illusion. It cannot be maintained in 
the face of the hard facts of city life. When myriads of people 
are crowded together in a small urban area, the bread-and- 
butter problem is enormously complicated. Individual initia¬ 
tive is handicapped by a thousand and one capricious and 
uncontrollable factors that do not exist in rural society. The 
individual must have protection and assistance in many ways 

285 


The old idea 
of “ laissez 
faire ” 


How urbani¬ 
zation has 
overturned 
the doctrine 
of “ laissez 
faire ” 


286 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The economic 
functions of 
city govern¬ 
ment 


to enable him to overcome these adverse conditions and satisfy 
his economic needs. And society, through the agency of 
government, must furnish the needed protection and assistance, 
not only in order to help the individual but also to prevent the 
ruination of the social system by the economic misfortunes 
of its members. As a matter of necessity, therefore, govern¬ 
ment, and especially city government, has embarked upon the 
stormy seas of economic paternalism. Not only the property- 
owner, as in times past, but also the wage-earner, the consumer, 
the indigent, and the unfortunate are objects of governmental 
solicitude and care. 

We shall not attempt to catalog here all the activities of 
government for the protection and assistance of the people 
in economic matters. As the processes and operations of 
economic life develop from a local to a national and an inter¬ 
national basis, there is a pronounced tendency for the general 
government to occupy more and more of the field of economic 
regulation, leaving to city government only those matters 
which are of distinctly local concern. But even so, there re¬ 
mains to the city a large and rapidly growing obligation to 
safeguard the economic interests of its inhabitants and promote 
their economic welfare. In discharging this obligation we now 
find city government all over the world assuming such func- t 
tions as the regulation of public utilities, zoning, the inspection 
of weights and measures, the regulation of housing facilities and 
rentals, the provision of publicly owned and operated markets 
and port and terminal facilities, the supervision and control of 
privately owned facilities of the same character, the operation 
of employment bureaus, and the care of the indigent and un¬ 
fortunate classes — all of which have as their fundamental 
objects the protection of the people against economic exploita¬ 
tion and the advancement of their material welfare. 

We shall deal first with the protective activities of city gov¬ 
ernment in the economic sphere. The most conspicuous of 
these is the regulation of public utilities. That is a subject 
of such transcendent importance that we shall treat it sepa¬ 
rately in a subsequent chapter. For the same reason we shall 
reserve to a separate chapter the subject of city planning and 
zoning, which is also one of the major activities of city gov¬ 
ernment in the field of economic paternalism. 

Municipal control of housing we have mentioned previously 
as an expedient for the promotion of public safety and health. 


ECONOMIC PROTECTION AND ASSISTANCE 


287 

From that standpoint the city’s concern is with the construc¬ 
tional side of the housing problem; from the economic stand¬ 
point its concern is mainly with the legal relations of landlord 
and tenant, the rentals charged for housing space, and the 
adequacy of housing facilities. The relations of landlord and 
tenant have presented difficulties from the earliest dawn of the 
institution of private property. The relationship is one of con¬ 
tract, and the two parties presumably stand in the position 
of equal bargainers. In the great cities, however, this is not 
the case. The concentration of real property in the hands of 
relatively a few individuals and corporations, and the neces¬ 
sitous conditions of the great mass of people destroy the equality 
of bargaining power as between landlord and tenant. The 
trump cards are all thrown into the landlord’s hand; the land¬ 
lords being few and backed by large capital are able to stand 
pat on terms which the tenant must accept or move his house¬ 
hold goods onto the street. If he does not accept the terms, 
some other tenant will; and he will probably find no other land¬ 
lord who will give more generous terms. To say that landlords 
have taken advantage of this situation to drive hard bar¬ 
gains is putting the case mildly; they have exploited the ten¬ 
ant mercilessly — tied him in a contract that raised his obliga¬ 
tions and reduced the landlord’s to the barest minimum. 

The unfortunate tenant can obtain no relief from this 
inequitable relationship unless the government comes to his 
aid with legislation regulating household leases so as to equalize 
the rights and obligations of the two parties. A vast amount 
of such legislation is now found in our statute books. There 
is, for example, legislation regulating evictions, requiring ade¬ 
quate notice and fair treatment; legislation regulating the pro¬ 
vision of necessary facilities such as gas, electricity, and 
water; legislation regulating the heating of tenement and 
apartment houses, requiring the buildings to be heated to fixed 
temperatures at stated periods of the year; legislation (very 
extensive legislation in Europe and some in the United 
States) regulating the rents chargeable for housing space — 
in fact legislation covering almost every phase of the leasehold 
relationship. Most of this is for the protection of the tenant, 
although certain rights are conferred upon the landlord which 
he would not otherwise have without special terms in the 
lease. There has been a tendency in recent years for the cen¬ 
tral authorities to enter this field; but the major responsibilities 


Municipal 
control of 
housing 


Regulating 
the relation 
of landlord 
and tenant 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Coping with 
the housing 
shortage 


Control of 
weights and 
measures 


288 

both in legislation and administration still remain with the 
municipal authorities. It is a municipal problem, for the local 
government to solve. Serious constitutional difficulties, in¬ 
volving the fundamental guarantees in the state and national 
constitutions, have arisen in connection with the enforcement 
of such protective legislation in the United States; but there 
are no such difficulties in Europe. 

The cessation of normal building operations during the 
World War of 1914-1918 brought to a head the problem of 
housing shortage which had been gradually developing in all 
parts of the world. The shortage of housing facilities became 
so great that great hardship and suffering were experienced by 
people of all classes. Rents kited to unprecedented heights, 
and in many instances there was insufficient housing space 
at any price. To meet this emergency various expedients 
have been employed. Municipal construction and ownership 
of tenement houses has been tried in various parts of Europe, 
but has not been completely successful. More fruitful has 
been public aid to private building enterprises. This has been 
accomplished chiefly through loans, tax exemptions, and tax 
differentials. European cities have been very successful in 
stimulating the right sort of building by financing the cost of 
construction through loans to builders on easy terms. Ameri¬ 
can cities have made little or no use of the loan plan. Both 
European and American cities have made use of tax exemp¬ 
tions to encourage building; and some European cities have 
worked out a plan of tax differentials whereby the taxes are 
graduated according to the type of construction and the use 
of the building, the idea being to give lower rates to the most 
desired structures. In all these endeavors the object of the 
city government is not so much to assist property owners 
in the erection of buildings as to relieve the great tenant class 
of the distress and suffering incident to a serious housing 
shortage. 

The inspection and regulation of weights and measures is 
another activity of city government that is designed for the 
protection of the people against economic exploitation. The 
ancient rule of caveat emptor is still part of the law in most 
countries; but, like the older law of leaseholds, it is ill suited 
to the conditions of city life. Under urban conditions seller 
and buyer do not deal on equal terms. The advantage is all 
with the seller; he not only knows more about the commodity 


ECONOMIC PROTECTION AND ASSISTANCE 289 

itself than the buyer can know, but he also owns and controls 
the weighing and measuring equipment which is used in the 
transaction between himself and the buyer. When the law 
says caveat emptor — “ let the buyer beware ” — it does not 
even give him a chance. All the “ bewaring ” that his caution 
can suggest cannot save him from exploitation by an unscrupu¬ 
lous merchant who “ doctors ” his weighing and measuring 
devices. To protect consumers against this form of economic 
exploitation governmental regulation and inspection of weights 
and measures is necessary. Sometimes this function is taken 
over by the central authorities, but generally it is left to the 
city. And experience has shown that supplementary action 
by the city government is desirable even where the central 
government assumes the chief responsibility. The essential 
step in the regulation of weights and measures is for the gov¬ 
ernment by careful legislation to prescribe standards with 
which all weights, scales, and measures in commercial use 
must comply, and then by periodic inspection to check up on 
the practices of vendors in adhering to these standards. The 
laws governing weights and measures usually call for a regu¬ 
lar annual or semi-annual inspection to determine whether the 
equipment in use complies with the legal standards. If so, 
the seal or stamp of official approval is placed upon it; if not, 
it is marked as condemned, and may not be lawfully used until 
it complies with the requirements of the law. These regular 
inspections are supplemented by special and unannounced in¬ 
vestigations from time to time for the purpose of detecting 
fraudulent practices which might be concealed at the regular 
inspection. 

Similar to the regulation of weights and measures by law 
is legislation designed to protect the public against the sale 
of adulterated and shoddy products. The spurious commodity 
may be no more dangerous to life and health than the genuine 
one — may even be superior in some respects — but it is not 
what the consumer pays for and thinks he is getting. The 
complicated processes of production and distribution in urban 
society make it difficult for the buyer to protect himself 
against this sort of fraud; and the government accordingly 
must come to his rescue. Nearly all cities have ordinances 
forbidding the sale of adulterated products, and many of the 
larger cities maintain laboratory and inspectional services for 
the enforcement of this legislation. Oftentimes the municipal 


The preven¬ 
tion of adul¬ 
teration 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Economic 

assistance 


Markets 


The pro¬ 
vision of 
terminal 
facilities 


29O 

legislation is merely supplementary to the acts of the general 
government in this field, but in some cases the field has not 
been occupied by the general government at all. Along the 
same line is legislation regulating the activities of pedlers 
and house-to-house canvassers. Consumers are easily victim¬ 
ized by these transient vendors unless protection is afforded 
by stringent legislation. 

Hand in hand with economic protection goes economic as¬ 
sistance. It is difficult sometimes to tell where the one leaves 
off and the other begins. Two kinds of economic assistance 
are commonly rendered by city government: (1) assistance 
designed to benefit the general public, and (2) assistance de¬ 
signed to benefit specific individuals. One of the commonest 
examples of the first type is the provision of municipal mar¬ 
kets, where producers may sell directly to the consumers under 
the supervision of the city government. The chief object of 
municipal markets is to enable the people of the city to pur¬ 
chase foodstuffs at the lowest prices possible. The city pro¬ 
vides the ground or floor space and rents it (the charge is de¬ 
signed to cover the cost of market administration only) to the 
farmer, who brings his produce directly from the farm to the 
market stall and sells at figures lower than the prices normally 
demanded in the regular trade. A great many vexing prob¬ 
lems arise in connection with the operation and management 
of such markets. Location is a vital one, for if a market is 
situated where it cannot be easily reached by the shopping 
public for whose benefit it is intended, it is bound to be a fail¬ 
ure. The administration of markets so as to insure the sani¬ 
tary handling of foodstuffs and to secure the observance of 
proper business practices is also difficult. It is necessary as 
a rule for the city to place each market under a competent 
superintendent and a trained staff of inspectors. In a like 
manner the city undertakes to regulate private markets, retail 
curb markets, and hucksters. 

For the purpose of helping to lower prices to the consuming 
public a number of cities have undertaken to provide port 
and terminal facilities which will simplify the processes and 
reduce the staggering overhead costs of wholesale and retail 
trade. The terminal problem is most complicated, for it in¬ 
volves the proper coordination and articulation of railways, 
steamship lines, and trucking concerns to secure the most 
economical handling of commodities in course of trade. Not 


ECONOMIC PROTECTION AND ASSISTANCE 


291 

many cities have been able to carry out a thorough and com¬ 
prehensive program of terminal development, but a great many 
have undertaken to establish docks, terminal warehouses, and 
storage facilities, which are leased at moderate terms to ship¬ 
pers and distributors. Though these facilities have been pro¬ 
vided primarily with a view to attracting business to the city 
and building up its economic resources, it is also expected 
that they will result in lower prices to the consumer. In the 
same way the whole public ownership movement, which will 
be discussed in a later chapter, may be viewed as an endeavor 
to secure for the inhabitants of the city certain indispensable 
utilities (chiefly water, gas, electricity, and street railway serv¬ 
ice) at the lowest possible cost. In connection with munici¬ 
pally owned utility enterprises a great many cities have em¬ 
barked upon merchandizing in lines related to the utility 
service, operating retail stores in which they sell various kinds Public 
of equipment (gas and electric stoves, lighting fixtures, plumb- ownershl P 
ing equipment, etc.) to be used in conjunction with the utility 
service operated by the city government. Some few cities have 
departed from the conventional types of municipal utility 
ownership and are adventuring in new fields, such as the opera¬ 
tion of municipal fuel yards and municipal ice plants. In Euro¬ 
pean cities the municipal abbatoir, or slaughter-house, is a 
universal institution; but in the United States the slaughtering 
and packing industry has remained entirely in private hands. 

All these services are primarily designed to advance the gen¬ 
eral economic well-being of the community, but may be par¬ 
tially justified in some instances on grounds of safety and 
health. 

Economic assistance for specific individuals rather than for 
the general public takes many different forms. One of the Legal aid 
newest of these is legal aid. The poor and ignorant are in a 
particularly unfortunate position as regards their legal difficul¬ 
ties. They are constantly confronted with questions of un¬ 
paid wages, the exactions of loan sharks, controversies over 
installment purchases, household leases, liabilities in traffic ac¬ 
cidents, and the like. The amount involved rarely is sufficient 
to warrant the employment of a lawyer, and they seldom know 
of a reliable legal practitioner to consult when the amount is 
great enough to justify it. For many years private social agen¬ 
cies have maintained legal aid bureaus for the assistance of this 
class of people, and now our city governments are beginning to 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Employment 

agencies 


292 

take over this work. Legal aid bureaus are now being operated 
in a considerable number of cities in connection with the wel¬ 
fare department, the corporation counsel’s office, and even the 
municipal court. These bureaus, staffed by competent attor¬ 
neys, render free legal advice to persons who come to them in 
need of assistance. The legal problems of the lowly may not 
involve money enough to justify the employment of an attor¬ 
ney, but they are just as important to the humble citizen as 
cases involving huge sums are to the persons of wealth. By 
extending legal aid to the poor and under-privileged the city 
helps them to secure justice and greatly better their position in 
the economic struggle. 

The operation of free employment agencies is another eco¬ 
nomic service which city government renders to those of its citi¬ 
zens who stand in need of special assistance in order to find em¬ 
ployment. The economic security of the urbanite depends upon 
continuous employment; distress soon dogs his heels if he is out 
of a job, for he must pay cash for his living and for the most 
part pay as he goes. There is always a large class of persons 
whose limitations of education, personality, and ability make it 
difficult for them to obtain permanent employment. Many 
others are thrown out of work by constantly recurring periods 
of business depression and various other maladjustments in the 
economic life of the city. For the assistance of this ever-too- 
large army of unemployed persons nearly all large cities now 
maintain free employment bureaus, which function as clearing¬ 
houses for job information. A person seeking employment, by 
supplying the required information about himself, may register 
with the city employment bureau. This bureau undertakes to 
secure all possible information as to jobs available and solicits 
the active cooperation of employers in using its facilities. Its 
function is to find the job and bring the employer and job¬ 
seeker together. This service is especially valuable to un¬ 
skilled workers and to persons of mediocre attainments who 
have very few other avenues to employment. Municipal em¬ 
ployment bureaus are often operated in cooperation with state 
or national employment agencies, and may then serve the un¬ 
employed class somewhat more effectively. Private employ¬ 
ment agencies, appealing usually to a much more restricted 
and specialized clientele than any of the municipal bureaus, 
flourish in almost every city. These private agencies are gen¬ 
erally subjected to some degree of municipal supervision and 


ECONOMIC PROTECTION AND ASSISTANCE 


293 

regulation to safeguard the persons resorting to them from 
exploitation. 

Another form of service largely for the unemployed, and par¬ 
ticularly for those of the transient class, is the municipal lodg¬ 
ing house. Many cities maintain institutions of this sort. 
Impecunious persons may apply for accommodations at the mu¬ 
nicipal lodging house, and receive a bed and possibly a meal a 
day. Sometimes a small charge is made, sometimes labor is 
exacted, and often the accommodations are given without 
charge. This relief is granted for a limited period only. 
Where the city does not maintain a lodging house, it often pro¬ 
vides accommodations at the police station. Similar institu¬ 
tions are very frequently maintained by private charity. 

Only in the last quarter-century has city government under¬ 
taken to do much in the way of direct relief of poverty. To a 
large extent this responsibility has been left to private philan¬ 
thropy ; and when it has been assumed by the public the work 
has devolved more largely upon county, state, and national 
units of government than upon the cities. In all the larger 
cities, however, the problem of poverty has so outgrown the 
capacity of private agencies and has so overloaded the welfare 
agencies of county, state, and general government that it has 
become necessary for the city government to undertake various 
supplemental activities for the mitigation and relief of pov¬ 
erty. The most common charity on the part of city govern¬ 
ment is outdoor relief. By this is meant direct assistance in 
the way of food, clothing, fuel, rent, or cash to needy persons. 
As a rule this form of relief is given only where it is deemed ex¬ 
pedient and economical to help a family keep together by direct 
subsidies rather than to break up the family unit by commit¬ 
ting its members to institutions. The allowance made is pro¬ 
portionate to the needs of the family during the period of dis¬ 
tress, and should be made only upon recommendation of a 
competent investigator. There is great danger of abuses creep¬ 
ing into the administration of outdoor relief; and for that rea¬ 
son it is highly desirable that the work should be under the 
constant supervision and control of trained social workers at¬ 
tached to the welfare department. Politics should play no part 
whatever in the distribution of outdoor relief. 

Indoor relief, more properly called institutional relief, is com¬ 
mon in the larger cities, but not in the smaller ones. Only the 
larger cities maintain almshouses, homes for the aged, homes 


Municipal 

lodging 

houses 


Municipal 

charities 


Outdoor re¬ 
lief 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Institutional 

relief 


2Q4 

for orphaned children, and similar charitable institutions. It 
it an unfortunate fact that these institutions have not on the 
whole been well administered. Through politics in the ap¬ 
pointment of superintendents and employees, serious abuses 
have crept in, and it has often seemed that the sufferings of the 
poor were in no degree alleviated by commitment to an insti¬ 
tution. Aside from institutions devoted exclusively to charitable 
work, much is done for the succor of the indigent by such in¬ 
stitutions as city hospitals and clinics. In many cities where 
no municipal institutions are operated by the city government 
for the relief of poverty, generous sums are appropriated from 
the city treasury to subsidize private charitable institutions; 
and in some cases the city both subsidizes private institutions 
and operates institutions of its own. But great care must be 
taken to keep tab on the use of city funds and to insist upon 
the maintenance of satisfactory standards, or serious abuses 
may arise. 


Selected References 

A. C. Hanford, Problems in Municipal Government, Chap. XX. 

F. C. Howe, European Cities at Work, Chaps. Ill, VI, VII, IX. 

C. C. Maxey, Readings in Municipal Government, pp. 487-491. 

W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. II, 
Chaps. XXXVI, XXXVII. 

L. D. Upson, The Practice of Municipal Administration, Chaps. 
XVIII, XXIII. 

J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chaps. 
XXXVI, XXXVII. 

Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Resolved, that the investment of municipal funds in the estab¬ 
lishment and operation of public markets is an unwarranted use of 
public funds for the benefit of private individuals. Argue the fore¬ 
going question. 

2. Do you think a merchant has just ground for protest when the 
city government compels him to submit to inspection and regulation 
of weights and measures? 

3. Where should the city draw the line in rendering economic as¬ 
sistance to its inhabitants? Do you think there is as much justifi¬ 
cation for the city to take steps to protect its people against fraud 
in the sale of theater tickets as in the sale of foodstuffs? 

4. Do you think charities should be supported and administered 
by public or by private funds? 


CHAPTER XXI 

MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 

Not long ago in a remote rural district an eagle in flight at 
dusk plunged into the transmission lines of a big electric power 
company and for an hour or more paralyzed the life of a great 
city. During the interval between the breaking of the lines 
and the restoration of the service not a single incandescent 
bulb was alight throughout the city, no electric motor could 
operate, no street-car was able to move, no theater was able 
to carry out its program, no factory, store, or office was able 
to operate on a normal basis, no surgeon or dentist could go 
on with his professional work, no traffic signals flashed instruc¬ 
tions to confused motorists, no housewife could use her elec¬ 
trical equipment to prepare the evening meal — in a moment 
the city of light and bustle and movement was transformed into 
a city of dreadful night. This incident dramatically illustrates 
the dependence of the modern city upon its public utility serv¬ 
ices. One need only contemplate the calamitous results 
of shutting off the water mains, cutting off the distribution of 
gas and electricity, stopping the street-cars and busses, or 
breaking off the telephone service in a modern city to realize 
the vital importance of public utilities. Domestic, industrial, 
and commercial life as conducted in the city of today have 
been made possible by our marvelous public utility services; 
without them urban civilization would quickly sink to primitive 
levels. Urban life might somehow manage to go along without 
water piped to each household, without gas, electricity, or tele¬ 
phones, without street-cars, subways, or busses; but what 
a crude and hapless existence it would be! And how destruc¬ 
tive of all those things which make city life enjoyable and 
fruitful! 

Because of the transcendent necessity of public utilities in 
modern city life the relation of these services to the public 
is a matter of supreme importance. Those who control and 
operate public utilities, and those who determine their rela- 


The depend¬ 
ence of the 
modern city 
upon its 
public 
utilities 


295 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Public 
utility 
business is 
“ affected 
with a public 
interest.” 


Public 
utility busi¬ 
ness is in¬ 
herently 
monopolistic. 


296 

tions to the clientele which they serve, are in a position to do 
enormous harm or equally enormous good to the well-being 
of the community. The public utility business is not like any 
other business; it is what the lawyers call “ a business affected 
with a public interest.” It is affected with a public interest, 
in the first place, because it cannot be conducted without 
special privileges which encroach upon the rights of the general 
public, and, in the second place, because the services rendered 
are of such tremendous importance to the welfare of all the 
people. The streets of the city are for the use of all the people 
on equal terms, and it is an established principle of law that 
no one may use the streets to the detriment of others. Public 
utilities, however, must be permitted to dig up the streets for 
the laying of pipes and conduits and to use the surface of the 
streets for the laying of tracks, the erection of poles, the string¬ 
ing of wires, and so on. The impediments which they place 
upon the streets do invade the rights of the public, and for 
that reason the public has an interest in the conduct of the 
public utility business which it does not have in businesses 
requiring no special concessions in the use of the streets. 

Furthermore, the public utility business is inherently monop¬ 
olistic. Competition between public utility companies is sel¬ 
dom beneficial to the public and is often disastrous to the 
business itself. It is rarely possible for a city to have two or 
more competing water supply systems, because there is as a 
rule only one available and adequate source of water. Com¬ 
peting telephone companies are a nuisance rather than a bene¬ 
fit to the public, because a person must subscribe for the 
services of all or be seriously limited in the extent of his tele¬ 
phone connections. Competing street railway companies can¬ 
not operate on the same streets, and therefore in order to enjoy 
the benefits of competition the public must endure the encum¬ 
bering of many more streets than the rendering of adequate 
transportation service requires, and tolerate the inconvenience 
of being unable to transfer freely to and from lines serving 
different territories. Gas and electric companies cannot com¬ 
pete without greatly overburdening the streets, and then if a 
householder desires to transfer his patronage from one to 
another, he must stand the inconvenience, cost, and delay 
of installing new connections and new equipment. 

Nor is competition desirable from the standpoint of the 
utility business itself. The utility concern which loses in a 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 


297 

competitive struggle cannot be allowed to remove its equipment 
from the streets and go out of business. That would leave the 
people served by it in a desperate plight. It must either con¬ 
tinue to do business at a loss or sell out to its rivals at their 
own figures. And the company which wins in warfare between 
utility companies often loses more in the end than it gains by its 
victory, because it cannot extend its business greatly without 
taking over its unsuccessful rivals. If it could discontinue at 
will the services of its defunct rivals, it might profit by driving 
them out of business; but it is usually obliged to take them 
over and continue most of the operations as before. This 
encumbers the victorious competitor with more plant and 
equipment and operating costs than are necessary to serve the 
community economically, and frequently leads to financial 
disaster. The plain fact is that monopoly in the public utility 
business is more congenial to the interests of both the public 
and the company than is competition; but monopoly is a mat¬ 
ter of grave concern to the public, because the monopolist has 
coercive power over the public, especially when the monopoly 
involves vital utility services. 

Seeing, then, that the utility business is deeply and peculiarly 
affected with a public interest, it is obvious that it must be sub¬ 
jected to public control. This is necessary in order to protect 
the public against abuses of power on the part of utility com¬ 
panies, to insure the quality of service required by the public, 
and to keep the charges of utility companies within reasonable 
bounds. The special privileges of utility companies in respect 
to the streets may become the source of serious and unnecessary 
inconvenience to the public if the companies are not held in 
check by public control; the monopolistic power of the utility 
company may enable it to gouge the consumers extortionately 
and to subject them to unreasonable treatment unless it is 
curbed by public authority; the service rendered by public util¬ 
ity companies may be very unsatisfactory — disgracefully so, 
considering the rates charged — unless they are held up to high 
standards by means of public regulation. These facts were 
not as clear in the early history of public development as they 
are today, and consequently many mistakes were made which 
would not be repeated if we could begin anew with the knowl¬ 
edge that has been gained through painful experience. 

The story of public utilities usually begins with water supply. 
This has been a public problem ever since men began building 


Competition 
dangerous to 
the utility 
business It¬ 
self 


Why utilities 
must be sub¬ 
jected to 
public regu¬ 
lation 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The absence 
of prece¬ 
dents for 
public con¬ 
trol in most 
utilities 


Past indif¬ 
ference of 
public to¬ 
ward utilities 


298 

cities; gas, electricity, telephones, and transportation are all 
developments of the last century. The vital importance of 
water supplies to life and health has been recognized since 
the earliest dawn of civilization; all the great cities of the 
past, from those of remotest antiquity in Egypt, Chaldea, 
China, and India to those of Greece and Rome and the more 
recent past, were forced to make some provision for and to 
develop some policy in respect to public water supplies. The 
vital necessity of water and the obviously limited character 
of the supply have compelled the public authorities either 
to undertake the provision and distribution of water supplies 
or to maintain effective control over private water supplies. 
Precedents for public control or public ownership reaching 
back to earliest history of the race have made it fairly easy 
to evolve public policies with reference to water supplies ade¬ 
quate to the exigencies created by the prodigious growth of 
cities during the last century. But there were no such prece¬ 
dents to furnish a basis for dealing with our other utilities. 
They were not at first regarded as utilities, but as convenient 
novelties. When gas and electricity were first introduced, they 
were not necessities; people were equipped to use the older 
methods of lighting and heating, and the economic and social 
structure of the city did not call for anything different. When 
the telephone was first introduced, it was treated as a curiosity 
and a toy, and has only recently been advanced to the rank of 
a necessity. Street railways were convenient and useful, but 
in the early history of street railway development distances 
were not too great to be covered by other means; and the same 
thing was true of the motor bus. 

It is not surprising, therefore, that the public attitude toward 
these utilities in their infancy was one of indifference and 
unconcern. The public felt no dependence upon them, per¬ 
ceived no important connection between them and public wel¬ 
fare, and saw no need for extensive public regulation and 
control. Persons promoting these businesses were viewed in 
much the same light as other business men. They were em¬ 
barking upon new and untried ventures, which might or might 
not prove successful, but which in either event were not mat¬ 
ters of vital concern to the public. They were required, of 
course, to obtain special permission from the city government 
before they could make use of the streets of the city to lay 
their tracks or pipes or to string their wires; but this was 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 


299 

usually granted on easy terms and without much thought of 
the future. Who could see much future in the first flickering 
gas jets, the first feeble incandescent bulbs, the first lumbering 
street-cars, or the first spluttering telephones? 

In time, however, these novelties proved their worth. They 
became useful, desirable, highly valuable. They became popu¬ 
lar, civic progress demanded them, and their development was 
encouraged in every way possible. Public utility promoters 
were looked upon as public benefactors, were invited and urged 
to launch as many projects as possible. The business became 
highly profitable, and capital flowed freely into it. Keen 
competition developed between rival promoters seeking exclu¬ 
sive privileges or specially valuable streets or territory to ex¬ 
ploit. Banks and brokerage firms became deeply involved 
through participation in the flotation of public utility securi¬ 
ties. Rival interests and groups manipulated stock exchanges, 
bribed city councils and legislatures, corrupted executive offi¬ 
cials, and perverted the judgments of courts. Franchises were 
granted in perpetuity or for terms of fifty or a hundred years; 
tax exemptions and concessions were granted almost indiscrim¬ 
inately; special privileges of the most vicious character were 
granted without question; the rights of the public were ig¬ 
nored; and the power of the public authorities to regulate and 
control the public utility business, if not entirely surrendered, 
was surrounded with limitations which rendered it nugatory 
and futile. 

During this black period of scandal and corruption public 
opinion was indulgent, indifferent, and ill-informed. But in 
time the state of opinion began to change. The various proc¬ 
esses of urban life, social and economic, gradually were trans¬ 
formed by gas, electricity, street railways, and telephones; 
and in this new order of city life public utility services became 
imperative. The city of the skyscraper, the multiple dwelling, 
and the commuter had been made a practicable reality by the 
development of public utility services, which now became as 
necessary as food, clothing, and shelter. Rate wars and interne¬ 
cine competition between public utility companies were fol¬ 
lowed by a period of merger and consolidation; and then the 
public began to feel the ruthless heel of monopoly. Virtually 
uncontrolled, and intrenched behind imprudent and overgen- 
erous franchise provisions, the gigantic combinations formed 
by the amalgamation of formerly independent utility units 


Rapid and 
uncontrolled 
development 
of the utility 
industry 


Utilities 
recognized 
as necessities 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The demand 
for public 
control 


Methods of 
public utility 
control 


300 

entered upon a career of exploitation and profiteering at the 
expense of the public. 

At once there arose an insistent demand for public regulation 
and control of utility companies, which no council or legislative 
body could fail to heed. Harried by an indignant and outraged 
public and yet disinclined to offend the utility interests whose 
political and financial power was most formidable, councils and 
legislatures equivocated, temporized, and resorted to palliative 
expedients which in the end proved unacceptable to both the 
public and the utility interests. The public utility question 
became a perennial issue in municipal politics, and there ensued 
a long and apparently interminable struggle for effective pub¬ 
lic control of the utility industry. The details of this protracted 
contest between public and private interests cannot be repeated 
here. Suffice it to say that step by step, position by position, 
the forces of public authority have nibbled away the intrench- 
ments of the utility interests and have won a constantly grow¬ 
ing quantum of really effective control over the conduct of the 
utility business. But as ever in trench warfare, the enemy re¬ 
tires to new positions and fortifies himself behind new entan¬ 
glements. So the battle goes on — a many-sided struggle 
with many different participants, and often greatly compli¬ 
cated by the involvement of the central government, which is 
the ultimate source of municipal power to regulate public 
utilities. 

There are three principal methods of public regulation and 
control of utilities, each of which will be the subject of sep¬ 
arate discussion in this chapter: the contract method, the 
statutory method, and the public ownership method. All these 
methods of control are used in the forty-eight states of the 
American Union, in the countries of Europe, and generally 
throughout the world; but the practices and usages vary so 
greatly in detail from one place to another, even within the 
bounds of a single state or country, that the most we can hope 
to do in a summary discussion of this kind is to present a sort 
of composite picture of each method’s most characteristic fea¬ 
tures. The contract method of control is founded upon a mu¬ 
tually binding contract between the municipality (or, as is 
often the case, the central government) and a private utility 
company. Through the terms and conditions of this contract, 
usually called a franchise, the public authorities obtain certain 
rights of regulation and control in respect to the conduct of 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 


301 

the utility business. The statutory method of control is based 
upon the sovereign power of the state and its municipal sub¬ 
divisions to enact and enforce what is known as police legislation 
for the promotion of public safety, health, morals, and wel¬ 
fare. There is no element of mutual agreement about it; it is 
simply a mandate of the supreme authority which must be 
obeyed by all. The public ownership method partly or wholly 
displaces private enterprise in the utility business. In some 
cases the public merely owns the plant and leases it to private 
operators; but in most cases the public both owns and operates 
the utility and thus obtains complete proprietary control 
over it. 

Public control by contract is made possible by the fact that 
no private individual or corporation has a right to place en¬ 
cumbrances upon or make undue use of the streets of the mu¬ 
nicipality without special authorization from the government. 
Having the power to grant or withhold this permission at will 
the public authorities may grant it conditionally. If the appli¬ 
cant accepts these conditions, a contract results; and both 
parties are then bound by the terms of the agreement. Such 
a contract is generally called a franchise; but the term “ fran¬ 
chise ” has a variety of meanings, and the reader is cautioned 
against construing it always in the restricted sense in which it 
is here used. Whether the city government, in the absence of 
special authorization, has the power to grant public utility 
franchises is a debatable question. The weight of opinion, 
especially in the United States, inclines to the doctrine that 
the granting of franchises is an act of sovereign authority and 
not within the scope of municipal power unless delegated ex¬ 
pressly or by necessary and unavoidable implication. The 
effect of this doctrine is to render the municipal government 
dependent upon the central authorities, state or national, for 
their franchise-granting power. The central government may 
reserve this power and exercise it itself; it may delegate the 
power absolutely and unreservedly to the municipal corpora¬ 
tion; or it may grant it conditionally and regulate its exercise 
by the municipality. There is no uniform practice, and in 
many cases the status of the franchise-granting power is in 
doubt, owing to the obscurity and ambiguity of the law sur¬ 
rounding it. 

Disregarding the legal question of whether and under what 
conditions the city does have exclusive power to grant fran- 


Public con¬ 
trol through 
contract 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Should the 
city have 
exclusive 
power to 
grant fran¬ 
chises? 


What should 
be the dura¬ 
tion of the 
franchise? 


302 

chises, we encounter the much more fundamental question of 
whether as a matter of policy the city should have the power 
exclusively. If the utility problem were strictly a local prob¬ 
lem and of no consequence beyond the corporate boundaries of 
the city, there could be no sound objection to allowing the city 
to contract with local utility companies as freely as possible. 
But the utility problem has ceased to be a local problem, if in 
fact it ever was such. Nearly all utility companies find them¬ 
selves obliged to serve much territory lying outside the limits 
of incorporated municipalities; some are obliged to serve a 
whole metropolitan area including scores of separate municipal 
units; and many in recent years are organized to serve a far- 
flung string of cities spread out across the boundaries of coun¬ 
ties, provinces, and states without respect to distance. Is it 
sound policy economically and politically that the public rela¬ 
tions of utility concerns rendering service to consumers in many 
different localities should be determined by the unrelated, in¬ 
dividual actions of the various municipal corporations in which 
the company does business? Under such a policy, what is to 
prevent the company from playing one city against another in 
order to drive a hard bargain; what is to insure equality of 
treatment as between cities in matters of service and rates; 
what is to guarantee uniform effectiveness in the exercise of 
public control? Problems such as these have greatly embar¬ 
rassed the advocates of exclusive municipal regulation of utili¬ 
ties, and have resulted in a widespread movement to deprive 
cities of the franchise-granting power or to restrict their ad¬ 
ministration of it in such a way as to reserve to the central 
authorities the fundamental powers necessary to the regulation 
of utilities on a regional basis. There is danger, however, of 
going so far in the direction of centralization as to result in the 
neglect of important municipal interests and in the subordina¬ 
tion of vital special interests of different communities to the 
arbitrary methodology of central regulation. 

The duration or term of the franchise is another problem 
that has been the cause of considerable controversy. In the 
early history of public utility regulation it was common to 
grant franchises to run forever, or for a century or a half- 
century. Experience has proved that this was a grave mistake. 
It is quite impossible to foresee and anticipate the develop¬ 
ments of the distant future, or even the near future. The proc¬ 
esses of our material life have been accelerated to such a degree 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 


303 

that franchise provisions are very apt to become anachronistic 
before the end of the generation which saw them granted. Who, 
a half-century or even a quarter-century ago, would have pre¬ 
dicted the present debacle of the street railway industry or the 
present indispensability of the telephone industry? Who would 
have predicted the phenomenal rise of the various electrical 
utilities or the profound modification of the functions and posi¬ 
tion of the gas utilities? It was not, however, a realization of 
the limitations of human foresight so much as the abuse by 
utility companies of special privileges enjoyed under long-term 
franchises that precipitated the popular reaction against long¬ 
time grants. As a penalty for past sins and as a sword of 
Damocles to insure good behavior in the future, the public de¬ 
manded the short-term franchise — not running over twenty 
years at the most, and preferably only ten or fifteen years. 
But the short-term franchise proved to be unsatisfactory also. 
Realizing that it might be ousted from the city at the end of 
the ten or twenty years, the company kept its investment as 
small as possible, renewed its equipment only under the sheerest 
necessity, and strove to squeeze out every possible penny of 
profit during the franchise period allotted to it, on the theory 
that it had to make hay while the sun was briefly shining. 
Moreover, the credit of the company suffered materially be¬ 
cause of the possibility that ten or twenty years would see it 
out of business and unable, perhaps, to meet its obligations. 
Not being regarded as a good risk, it had to pay excessive rates 
of interest and to mature its loans in inconveniently short 
periods of time. 

A way out of the dilemma of the short- vs. the long-term 
franchise has been found in the so-called indeterminate fran¬ 
chise. An indeterminate franchise does not run for a definite 
period of years; no limits are fixed. The franchise may run 
indefinitely, and it may be terminated at any time, after ade¬ 
quate notice has been given. So long as the agreement is satis¬ 
factory to both parties, the franchise will go on; but when 
trouble arises, it may be terminated. The chief controversy 
respecting the indeterminate franchise concerns the mode of 
termination. Some contend that both the city and the com¬ 
pany should have the right to terminate the franchise under 
certain conditions; others maintain that the option of termina¬ 
tion should be given to the city only. 

It is unthinkable that either party should have the right 


The indeter¬ 
minate fran¬ 
chise 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Who should 
possess the 
right of 
termination 


What the 
franchise 
should con¬ 
tain 


304 

to terminate the franchise at will and for no cause except a 
desire to wiggle out of an onerous contract. The right to termi¬ 
nate should be exercisable only upon cause going to the vitals 
of the contract itself. Gross and continued violations of the 
contract should be sufficient warrant for termination, and like¬ 
wise the incompatibility of the contract with existing condi¬ 
tions owing to changes which have occurred since it was en¬ 
tered into. But we should remember that the primary purpose 
of the franchise is the protection of the public and not the 
advancement of the interests of the company. It would be a 
great mistake, therefore, to empower the company to terminate 
the franchise against the will of the authorities representing 
the public. This would give the company a whip hand in 
all negotiations with public authorities. On the other hand, 
there is little danger that the power of termination will be 
abused by the representatives of the public. It is to the in¬ 
terest and advantage of the public to have the company con¬ 
tinue in business as long as it is operating on a financially 
sound basis, is rendering adequate service, and is not charging 
excessive rates. If the company cannot meet these require¬ 
ments under the existing franchise and some other company 
can, then the public should have the right to terminate the 
contract and do business with a concern that is fully capable 
of meeting the obligations of public service. And if it can be 
demonstrated that no soundly conducted company could fulfil 
its obligations under the existing franchise, it will be to the 
interest of the city to make a readjustment rather than have 
the company fail. Never in the entire annals of public utility 
history has there been a case where the public authorities 
were unwilling to meet the public utility interests halfway or 
better if they were willing to give evidence of an honest attempt 
to deal fairly with the public. We may conclude, therefore, that 
the right of termination (surrounded by ample restrictions for 
the protection of the company) should belong exclusively to the 
public. 

The problem of what the public utility franchise should 
contain in addition to the provisions controlling its duration 
is highly complicated and technical. Each type of utility has 
its own technical problems which must be covered by special 
provisions. It would be impossible to have identical franchises 
for gas, electrical, telephone, and street railway companies. 
Nevertheless there are certain basic factors affecting public 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 305 

policy which are common to all and should be covered by 
adequate franchise provisions. No franchise is sound which 
does not provide for a mutually satisfactory scheme of adjust¬ 
ing and fixing rates. As a means of controlling rates and regu¬ 
lating financial procedure the franchise should also contain 
stipulations as to methods of accounting which will enable 
the regulating authorities to keep check on the financial opera¬ 
tions of the company. The franchise should likewise carefully 
reserve to the city the right to exercise regulatory powers in 
such matters as standards of service, relations with consumers, 
maintenance of property, extensions of service, discriminations 
in service, and other important matters having to do with 
the operation of the company. The capital stock of the com¬ 
pany should be brought under public control of franchise pro¬ 
visions, and all increases in capitalization or bonded indebted¬ 
ness should have the sanction of the public authorities. The 
franchise should further provide for full publicity in the man¬ 
agement of the affairs of the company, and should require 
complete and regular reports to be made to the regulating 
officials. It is the part of wisdom also to include a provision 
for an agreed method of arriving at the purchase price in 
case the city should wish to buy out the company and operate 
it as a public undertaking. Many other points might be sug¬ 
gested for inclusion in the franchise, but the foregoing are 
perhaps the most important; and they suggest very clearly 
the need of carefully drawn franchises if public regulation 
by the contract method is to be a success. 

The contract method of regulation has many advantages 
and some decided disadvantages. The advantages are some¬ 
what more pronounced in the United States than elsewhere. 
Because of the extensive restrictions in our national and state 
constitutions upon governmental interference with personal 
and property rights, it is often possible to enforce under con¬ 
tract regulatory provisions which would be declared unconsti¬ 
tutional if imposed by direct statutory enactment. Particularly 
is this true of rate regulations. American courts guard most 
jealously the rights of persons under the due process and equal 
protection provisions of our constitutions, and rates that are 
regarded as confiscatory are always held to be in violation of 
due process of law. But the same identical rate equally con¬ 
fiscatory, if rendered obligatory upon the company by contract 
rather than by statutory enactment, is entirely valid and en- 


Advantages 
of contract 
method of 
regulation 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Disadvan¬ 
tages of con¬ 
tract method 


306 

forceable so far as due process is concerned. Practically the 
same paradox obtains with regard to all other regulatory meas¬ 
ures. If imposed by statute, they have to run the gauntlet of 
judicial review to determine whether they amount to denial of 
equal protection of the laws or to deprivation of life, liberty, or 
property without due process of law; but if they are imposed 
by contract, no such questions can be raised. Under the Amer¬ 
ican constitutional system, therefore, public utility regulation 
by contract has the advantage of avoiding certain legal ob¬ 
stacles embodied in our formidable constitutional limitations. 

On the other hand, there are in the United States certain 
peculiar legal complications and embarrassments in the process 
of regulation by contract. Our national constitution and 
virtually all our state constitutions contain provisions that 
forbid the making or enforcing of laws impairing the obliga¬ 
tions of contracts; and our courts have interpreted these pro¬ 
visions to mean that retrospective legislation reducing the 
obligations of the parties to preexisting contracts, relieving them 
of essential contractual obligations, or depriving them in any 
way of rights which they should have under such contracts, 
is unconstitutional and invalid. The famous Dartmouth Col¬ 
lege Case extended this doctrine to public grants and franchises 
as well as to contracts between private individuals. As a con¬ 
sequence the terms and conditions of a public utility franchise 
are fixed and unalterable during the life of the franchise, ex¬ 
cept by agreement of the contracting parties themselves. Mis¬ 
takes made through haste or lack of foresight, improper 
concessions made to public utility interests by corrupt or stupid 
franchise grantors, — these are irremediable during the life 
of the grant unless the agreement of both parties can be 
secured, which is a difficult matter. It becomes necessary, 
therefore, in the granting of public utility franchises in this 
country to couch the grant in terms that will safeguard all the 
interests of the public with reference to all possible future 
contingencies throughout the duration of the franchise grant. 
This of course is an extremely difficult thing to accomplish, 
and calls for more expertness and more prophetic insight in 
public utility matters than the average franchise-granting body 
can be expected to possess. The legal advantages of the con¬ 
tract method of regulation are thus offset by equally positive 
legal disadvantages. 

In Great Britain, France, Germany, and other countries not 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 


307 

having the peculiar constitutional limitations which obtain in 
the United States the foregoing considerations do not apply. 
The sole question in those countries is whether the contract 
method is sound and expedient from the economic and admin¬ 
istrative standpoints. From an economic point of view the 
soundness or unsoundness of the contract system is determined 
largely by the bases and content of the franchise itself. To 
formulate a franchise making adequate provision for public 
control and at the same time having due regard for the finan¬ 
cial and business considerations which must govern the opera¬ 
tions of the company, is a task that calls for an unusual grasp 
of both public affairs and the utility industry. Basic condi¬ 
tions change so rapidly in the utility field and also in the struc¬ 
ture and processes of urban society that it is doubtful whether 
contract relations between the city and the company can be 
made sufficiently flexible and elastic to expedite the progressive 
accommodations of regulatory procedure to social and economic 
facts, which are necessary if regulation is to regulate and not 
obstruct. This explains why the pure contract method of con¬ 
trol has been losing ground in recent years in both Europe and 
the United States. The contract method also involves certain 
administrative difficulties. The franchise will not enforce itself. 
Judicial enforcement, which is the ordinary method of enforc¬ 
ing contracts, is a slow, uncertain, and expensive procedure. 
And enforcement by direct administrative action, without judi¬ 
cial intervention, is of doubtful validity when the rights and 
obligations in question are of a purely contractual nature. The 
franchise itself may provide for modes and machinery of en¬ 
forcement; but disputes often arise as to the construction and 
application of these, in which case the only recourse is to the 
courts. 

The essence of the statutory method of public regulation and 
control — the second method mentioned above — is the enact¬ 
ment, by city council or the central legislative body, of a body 
of public utility law imposing upon utility companies certain 
specific rules and obligations which they must observe in order 
to engage in the utility business. Failure to comply with the 
law may be penalized either by forfeiture of the privilege of 
doing business or by the usual civil and criminal peftalties. 
There is no element of mutual agreement about it. The sov¬ 
ereign will is declared by statutory enactment, and the com¬ 
pany obeys or suffers the prescribed penalties. 


Difficulties 
in formulat¬ 
ing proper 
contract 


The statutory 
method of 
control 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Who should 
exercise 
statutory 
control? 


308 

Statutory control, like franchise control, is fraught with 
many difficulties. Not the least of these is the question of the 
location or distribution of authority to legislate on the subject 
of public utilities. We are aware of course that municipalities 
have only delegated authority, and that the fundamental power 
to legislate on all matters belongs to the central government. 
But whether the grant of corporate autonomy to a municipality 
carries with it the power to enact legislation for the regulation 
and control of utilities is sometimes a very nice juridical ques¬ 
tion. Much more important, however, and far more basic in 
principle, is the question of whether this power ought to be 
vested exclusively in the municipality, retained exclusively in 
the central government, or be in some manner divided. Pub¬ 
lic utility legislation by the city government can have no 
force outside the boundaries of the city, and hence is bound 
to be of limited competence in the solution of utility prob¬ 
lems of more than local extent. Public utility legislation 
by the central government is often too broad in its terms and 
too general in its application to satisfy the specific needs 
of each and every municipality coming within its purview. 
Division of authority between central and municipal gov¬ 
ernment not infrequently results in disastrous lacunae in the 
public utility law, and sometimes in unfortunate conflicts and 
overlappings in regulatory requirements. Because of the grow¬ 
ing tendency of the public utility industry towards large-scale 
organization for the service of extensive territories, it has 
become increasingly necessary for the central government to 
assume the fundamental responsibility for public utility regu¬ 
lation, leaving to local communities only the power of supple¬ 
mentary local legislation not encroaching upon the field occu¬ 
pied by general legislation. This dichotomy of legislative 
authority may work very satisfactorily or very unsatisfactorily. 
In Europe, where general legislation is couched in very broad 
terms and is given its specific local application through the 
discretionary action of central administrative functionaries, the 
proper adjustment between central and local authority has been 
relatively easy; but in the United States, where general stat¬ 
utes are encumbered with details allowing no latitude for differ¬ 
entiation between localities and customarily providing for no 
flexibility of execution by confiding discretionary powers to cen¬ 
tral administrative agents, no rational and consistent reconcili¬ 
ation of central and local needs and policies has been possible. 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 


309 


Another problem in statutory control that has been particu¬ 
larly troublesome in the United States is that of formulating a 
body of legislation that will really cover the needs of the case 
without such a detailed elaboration of minutiae as to encumber 
the process of enforcement with an adamantine mass of tech¬ 
nicalities. This outcome has been avoided in European coun¬ 
tries by the extensive freedom accorded to administrative offi¬ 
cials in deciding the questions arising in connection with the 
application of general rules of law to concrete sets of facts. 
The greater the discretion of the officials administering the law, 
the less need there is for the proliferation of detailed provisions 
in the law itself. European city government being subject to 
extensive administrative control on the part of the central gov¬ 
ernment, and European administrative functionaries having 
generous authority to supplement the general laws by adminis¬ 
trative decrees and ordinances, public utility codes in Euro¬ 
pean countries have not been under the necessity of providing 
a specific rule for every conceivable minor point in public 
utility administration. But in the United States we have sought 
to establish “ a government of laws and not of men.” Central 
control of local government is accomplished by the judicial en¬ 
forcement of detailed laws rather than by the orders, rules, and 
decrees of administrative officials. Administrative discretion 
is not trusted. Hence it has been necessary in enacting legisla¬ 
tion for the regulation and control of public utilities to leave 
nothing to the unaided judgment of judicial or administrative 
officials that might be covered by a specific statutory precept. 
As a result our public utility codes have become swamps of 
tangled and inconsistent details, baffling even to the expert. 

Experience soon disclosed a number of fatal defects in the 
American system of statutory control. The laws could not en¬ 
force themselves, and the questions brought before the courts 
in the process of litigation for their enforcement were not, 
strictly speaking, legal questions. They were highly technical 
and recondite questions of economics, finance, corporate pro¬ 
cedure, and business practice. Mistaken decisions on the part 
of the courts, correct perhaps as to law but grossly incorrect as 
to social and economic policy, resulted in the frustration of the 
entire system of control. Reform became imperative, and, 
profiting by European experience, we began to establish special 
boards and commissions to administer our public utility legis¬ 
lation. These bodies were endowed with quasi-legislative and 


What the 
public utility 
code should 
contain. 


Defects of 

statutory 

control 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Constitutional 
difficulties 
with statu¬ 
tory control 


310 

quasi-judicial powers as well as extensive administrative dis¬ 
cretion. Encumbering details were largely weeded out of our 
public utility codes, and the public utility or public service 
commissions, as they were called, were given power to make 
special rules and regulations supplementary to the general laws, 
to conduct hearings and make determinations in cases of con¬ 
troversy, and to issue orders calling for specific action to be 
taken. For the most part these regulatory bodies in the United 
States act under the authority of state law, and have partial 
or complete jurisdiction over the utilities of all the municipali¬ 
ties of the state. Sometimes, however, the field is divided be¬ 
tween state and local utility commissions. 

We cannot leave the subject of statutory regulation without 
some reference to the constitutional difficulties encountered by 
this method of regulation in the United States. Mention has 
been made previously of the extensive guarantees in our state 
and national constitutions in the interest of private rights. 
The prohibitions against taking life, liberty, or property with¬ 
out due process of law and denying to any person the equal 
protection of the laws are meant, so the courts advise us, to 
forbid governmental interference with private freedom except 
as dictated by some paramount public necessity. When public 
safety is endangered, when public health is imperilled, when 
public morals are threatened, when vital welfare of the public 
is menaced, then the police power of the government may be 
used to curb individual freedom as to person and property in 
order to safeguard and conserve these indispensable public in¬ 
terests; and then only in a just and reasonable way. This 
means that every legislative act regulating the conduct of the 
public utility business is subject to challenge on the ground 
that it is contrary to the constitutional requirements for due 
process and equal protection. The courts, being the custo¬ 
dians of private rights under these constitutional limitations, 
have to decide the issue — to determine whether there is any 
rational relation between the regulation in question and the 
promotion of some vital public good. If the courts are unable 
to see it, it does not exist, and the regulation is invalid. Every 
statutory enactment affecting rates, service, capitalization, 
accounting, publicity, and other important points in public 
utility regulation must pass muster before the courts. The 
courts have not laid down general rules by which the constitu¬ 
tionality of such legislation may be determined in advance; 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 311 

but have dubiously traced out certain vague trails of precedent, 
which, if followed to the end, may lead to the magic goal 
of judicial approval. So, we perceive, statutory regulation 
in the United States is fraught with litigious difficulties which 
are unknown in Europe. 

It is dangerous to generalize as to the comparative advan¬ 
tages and disadvantages of statutory regulation. With a 
properly drawn code administered by competent utility experts 
the advantages in flexibility of administration, continuity of 
supervision, and proficiency of regulation are too obvious to 
require elaboration. But where the law is imperfect, or is 
emasculated by judicial review, and the administrative organ¬ 
ization and procedure for enforcement are inappropriate, 
nothing can be more futile and ineffective than statutory 
control. 

It should be noted that the contract and statutory methods 
of control are frequently found together. The utility company 
will be subjected to public control in part through a franchise 
and in part through statutory enactments and supplementary 
administrative regulations. This is a very common occurrence 
where the franchise, granted many years ago, does not cover 
many points now deemed essential in public utility regulations. 
It has been found advantageous in the United States particu¬ 
larly to combine the two methods of control in order to accom¬ 
plish by one what cannot be accomplished by the other. It 
is also true in many cases that the coexistence of these two 
methods of control is simply a matter of historical survival. 
There is no conspicuous inconvenience or disadvantage in the 
combination of franchise and statutory control, and, as has 
been intimated, it may be positively beneficial to all con¬ 
cerned. 

The adoption of the policy of public ownership as a means 
of controlling and regulating municipal utilities is a repudia¬ 
tion of private capital and private management in the conduct 
of utility services. It is based upon the proposition that a fun¬ 
damental antagonism between public and private interests 
makes it necessary for the city government to own the proper¬ 
ties and manage the operations involved in the rendering of 
the utility services in order to fully and properly safeguard 
and promote the interests of the public. The arguments in 
favor of municipal ownership are many and cogent, and like¬ 
wise the arguments against it. Most of the arguments on both 


Contract and 
statutory 
methods 
often com¬ 
bined 


The policy 
of public 
ownership 


312 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The case for 
public owner¬ 
ship 


1. Incom¬ 
patibility of 
private 
ownership 
and public 
interest 


2. Private 
ownership 
has been a 
failure. 


sides, however, if not largely theoretical, are to say the least 
hypothetical, and will not bear too close examination from the 
standpoint of unassailable fact. 

The case for municipal ownership rests upon three basic 
postulates: (i) that private ownership is unsound in principle, 
(2) that private ownership has been a failure in practice, 
and (3) that public ownership overcomes the faults of private 
ownership. The first of these points is predicated upon the 
argument that private profit and public service are incom¬ 
patible. Private capital, so it is contended, seeks investment 
in a business for the purpose of realizing the largest possible 
profit. It therefore wants high rate charges, low labor costs, 
the cheapest possible equipment, the lowest possible cash in¬ 
vestment with the highest possible paper capitalization, and 
regulatory limitations by franchise and statute that are easy 
on the company; whereas the public service demands low 
rates, competent and well-paid labor, superior equipment, a 
generous cash investment in the business, and franchises and 
statutes which bear hard upon the company. The complete 
irreconciliability of these two sets of motives is said to obviate 
all hope that public regulation can ever succeed in render¬ 
ing private ownership adequately responsive to public interests 
and needs. 

The second point, that private ownership has been a failure 
in practice, is grounded on the following affirmations: that the 
financial basis of private utility concerns is unsound and often 
fraudulent; that the rates charged for public utility services are 
excessive; that the services rendered are almost invariably 
below the standard that should be maintained; that the grind¬ 
ing labor policies of private utilities breed strikes and other 
labor troubles which are a great inconvenience and expense 
to the public; that private utilities have stifled competition and 
used their monopolistic power to exploit the public; that pri¬ 
vate utilities have always been a baneful and corrupting influ¬ 
ence in municipal politics; and that private utility companies 
have been promoted almost entirely upon a speculative basis, 
and have been, therefore, notoriously unstable and beset with 
difficulties which have been costly and harmful to the public. 
As proof of the truth of these assertions documents and statis¬ 
tics are adduced by the ton, all being the products of official 
investigations and inquiries extending over a century or more 
of public utility history. But of that, more later. 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 


313 

The third point, that public ownership will do what private 
ownership should do but has failed to do, is bottomed upon 
these propositions: that the city can finance the initial cost of 
public utility undertakings more economically than a private 
company because of its ability to borrow money at lower rates 
of interest; that it can operate utilities more economically and 
at a lower cost to the public because it pays no taxes and no 
dividends, and is obliged to spend no money to corrupt public 
officials or influence public opinion; that labor conditions will 
be better because of the better treatment and greater content¬ 
ment of municipal employees; that labor costs will not be as 
high as under private management, even though wages be some¬ 
what higher, because of the smaller employment turnover, the 
elimination of strikes, and other costly labor troubles, and the 
better morale of public employees; that better plants and 
operating equipment can be provided without increased cost 
by using for that purpose a small part of the money that a 
private company would devote to taxes, interest, dividends, and 
political expenses; and that there will be only one actuating 
motive, namely, to give the public the best possible service at 
the lowest possible cost. The evidence to sustain these theses 
is, unfortunately, somewhat less sufficient than the evidence 
which may be summoned to the indictment of private owner¬ 
ship. We shall deal with the whole question of evidence and 
proof at a later point. 

The case for private ownership, when reduced to its elemen¬ 
tal terms, is really a case against public ownership. Private 
ownership is by no means as eloquent in its own defense as it 
is in attacking that bete noir of the utility interests — public 
ownership. The advocates of private ownership base their 
case also upon three postulates: (1) that public ownership is 
plausible in theory but fundamentally unsound, (2) that public 
ownership has failed in practice, and (3) that private owner¬ 
ship is capable of serving the people more efficiently than public 
ownership can hope to do. Public ownership is held to be un¬ 
sound in principle because it eliminates the incentive of profit¬ 
making which is supposed to supply the spur to efficiency and 
economy. All the ostensible advantages of municipal owner¬ 
ship — freedom from taxes, low interest rates, exemption from 
dividend obligations — are said to vanish in the profligacy 
which results from the absence of any motive for good business 
management. 


3. Public 

ownership 

will correct 

troubles 

caused by 

private 

ownership. 


The case for 

private 

ownership 


1. Public 
ownership 
unsound in 
principle 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


2. Public 
ownership 
has failed in 
practice. 


3. Private 
ownership is 
inherently 
superior. 


What evi¬ 
dence is 
there to sus¬ 
tain the case 
on either 
side? 


314 

The second point, that public ownership has failed in prac¬ 
tice, is based upon the following contentions: that under pub¬ 
lic ownership municipal utilities have been demoralized by 
politics, being used as a football between contending parties 
and factions; that labor is plunged into politics under public 
ownership and uses its political power to increase wages out of 
proportion of their worth; that municipal employees are notori¬ 
ously indolent and are not held to the high standards of effi¬ 
ciency that prevail in private employment; and that manage¬ 
ment, which depends upon competent technicians, is far less 
satisfactory under public ownership than under private owner¬ 
ship, because men of high attainments in engineering, finance, 
and similar lines will not accept employment where the tenure 
is dependent upon politics. 

The third point, that private ownership is inherently supe¬ 
rior, is supported by the argument that private business con¬ 
cerns are better equipped by reason of experience, by reason 
of their highly trained and well managed staffs of employees, 
by reason of their freedom from politics, by reason of the 
greater flexibility and adaptability of their organization, and 
by reason of the fact that they are obliged to achieve the high¬ 
est degree of efficiency and economy in order to satisfy the 
demands of their stockholders. 

Such are the brief pros and cons in the case of public vs. 
private ownership of municipal utilities. But what is the 
truth? There is plenty of good argument and plenty of good 
theory on both sides, but what is proved by the supreme test of 
experience? Only one thing, conclusively—the necessity for 
extreme caution in reaching convictions. Neither public nor 
private ownership has ever been tried under ideal conditions, 
and in every concrete example that may be used to clinch an 
argument there are so many other factors than the mere fact of 
public or private ownership that it is not possible to say con¬ 
clusively that the results, whether good or bad, were because 
of or merely subsequent to the inauguration of public or pri¬ 
vate ownership. No dialectic fallacy traps more good minds 
than that of post hoc ergo propter hoc, and in citing experience 
to prove the case for or against either public or private owner¬ 
ship this error is almost unavoidable. It is possible by selecting 
cases and stressing only the facts it is desired to bring into 
relief, to build up an almost impregnable case on either side, 
to demonstrate beyond cavil to any rational mind that both 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 


3IS 

public and private ownership are all right or all wrong. But 
no thinking person will be misled by such pernicious misuse of 
facts; it is the hall-mark of propaganda. 

As a matter of plain truth our experience with both public 
and private ownership has been far from uniform and certainly 
far from conclusive. Most of the municipalities owning and 
operating their own waterworks have discharged the task suc¬ 
cessfully, even admirably; but that does not prove that they 
would do the same with street railways or telephones, for there 
are certain generic differences between waterworks and other 
utilities. Nor does it prove that private ownership of water¬ 
works is bound to be a failure; there have been instances 
of successful private operation of municipal water-supply sys¬ 
tems ; and in many cases the shift from private to public owner¬ 
ship was not due to the failure of private ownership, but to 
other considerations. Many cities own and operate their own 
electric light and power systems, and do it remarkably well; 
other cities have made a good deal of a mess of public owner¬ 
ship of electric utilities. Is it public ownership, or something 
else, that accounts for these contradictory results? . Some com¬ 
munities are supplied with electric light and power by private 
companies which are rendering excellent service at reasonable 
rates, and others are supplied by companies actuated by the 
ethics of a mediaeval usurer. Is it private ownership, or some¬ 
thing else, which accounts for these contradictory results? 
Some cities have achieved gratifying success in the ownership 
and operation of street railways, and others have been dismally 
unsuccessful. Some privately owned street railway systems 
have been creditably managed, and others have been run like 
a wildcat oil company. Similar parallelisms run through all 
utility experience, whatever the utility and wherever situated. 

Municipal ownership has been more uniformly successful in 
Europe than in the United States, the chief reason being that 
conditions in Europe have been far more congenial to public 
ownership than in this country. The property-holding and 
business interests, which in this country have opposed public 
ownership, have been favorable in Europe because of the effect 
of utility earnings in the reduction of taxes. We do not oper¬ 
ate utilities with a view to their revenue-producing capacity, 
but with a view to serving the consumer at cost. Hence there 
has been no advantage to the American taxpayer in the public 
attitude on the public ownership question. 


Experience 
neither uni¬ 
form nor 
conclusive 


European ex¬ 
perience not 
comparable 
with Ameri¬ 
can 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The issue not 
one of fact 


Public and 
private busi¬ 
ness are 
conducted on 
about same 
level of 
principle 
and efficiency. 


316 

The issue between public and private ownership of utilities 
is not and has never been one of fact, nor even of opinion in 
the best sense of the term; it is an issue which turns upon sus¬ 
picion, fear, prejudice, self-interest, and personal advantage. 
Private utility interests by stupidity, greed, and indifference 
to the public weal have earned the distrust and dislike of the 
people; and politicians, fomenting the question of municipal 
ownership as a means of personal advancement, and using 
publicly owned utilities as cogs in political machines, have 
aroused the apprehension and hostility of private business 
interests. Intelligence plays a small part in the decision of the 
electorate when the issue of public vs. private ownership is 
raised. If at the moment the people happen to be in a mood of 
resentment against Big Business, they will incline towards pub¬ 
lic ownership; if, on the contrary, they happen to be passing 
through one of their periodic fits of indignation at the rascality 
of the politicians, they are likely to seek solace in the embraces 
of private utility interests. It is a tragi-comedy of Jovian 
irony; but the unhappy populace should not be too much 
blamed for its vagaries. Imbecile it may be; but its animal 
instinct to smite the most immediate and obvious evildoer is 
fundamentally correct. 

After all, when one makes a careful and honest comparison 
of publicly and privately owned business enterprises, there 
does not seem to be much to choose between them. It is cus¬ 
tomary to picture private business as the acme of integrity and 
efficiency — the very masterpiece of scientific management — 
and to lament the unfortunate fact that public business is per¬ 
meated by nepotism, political and personal favoritism, corrup¬ 
tion, and bad management. The people who indulge in such 
distorted comparisons are either ignorant of the sordid facts 
about private business, or else they deliberately ignore them. 
Anyone who believes there is no such thing as nepotism in 
private business would do well to try the experiment of getting 
a job in the average bank, department store, factory, railway 
company, or public utility company in competition with the 
worthless son, brother, nephew, cousin, or other relation of the 
president or some other influential official of the company. Any¬ 
one who believes there is no politics in business had better read 
the history of the Standard Oil Company, the New Haven 
Railway, the United States Steel Corporation, the General 
Motors Company, the Bank of Italy, the Piggly Wiggly Com- 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 317 

pany, and many others that might be mentioned. Anyone who 
fancies that there is no corruption in private business, forgets 
all about the rake-offs, “ commissions,” melon-cuttings, hono¬ 
rariums, and what-not that characterize nearly every phase of 
business activity. Mr. H. R. Heydon, president of the Com¬ 
mercial Standards Council, was recently quoted as saying that 
one billion dollars a year are spent as business bribes. Any¬ 
one who is accustomed to swallow the customary panegyrics on 
the efficiency of private business should make a study of the 
causes of business failure — more than 80% of the annual 
failures being due, according to prominent experts, to sheer in¬ 
efficiency and incompetence — and should examine the studies 
made a few years ago by a committee of the American En¬ 
gineering Council, which show that the best of our great private 
industries are not much more than 65% efficient, and that some 
of them are not more than 20% or 30% efficient. 

The simple truth is that public business and private business 
are transacted on just about the same plane of probity and effi¬ 
ciency, are characterized by just about the same evils, and are 
in fact so much alike, being conducted by the same kind of hu¬ 
man beings under fairly similar circumstances, that a shift from 
one to the other does not mean as much as is commonly sup¬ 
posed. To the dubious and increasingly cynical populace it is 
often a choice between alternatives, both of which are unpalat¬ 
able and distressing. But iniquitous public ownership is not 
quite as bitter a pill for the public to swallow as profligate and 
villainous private ownership, because in the former case the 
rascals who fleece the public are of the people’s own choosing 
and can be turned out whenever the people wish, and there is 
comfort in this knowledge. Here we have a clue to the future 
of public ownership. 

When, owing to the perversity of public utility companies 
and to bungling regulation on the part of public authorities, 
popular distrust in private ownership mounts to a certain point, 
the people will turn instinctively to public ownership — not 
because of increased trust in public servants but because of 
increased distrust in the servants of great corporations. Let 
the public utility interests do their worst, and in the natural 
course of events they will drive the people to public ownership. 
This truth has at last begun to penetrate public utility think¬ 
ing, and we are witnessing during these latter years a note¬ 
worthy change in public utility tactics. It is the fashion now 


Private 
utilities now 
realize the 
importance 
of cultivating 
public favor. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


318 


The future of 

public 

ownership 


Present 
trends in 
public regu¬ 
lation of 
privately- 
owned 
utilities 


for public utility companies to strive to ingratiate themselves 
in popular favor by propaganda. Extravagant advertising (for 
which the public pays), prominent participation in civic cele¬ 
brations, and persuasive publicity in the schools and colleges 
of the country are current examples of the desire of the private 
utility interests to rehabilitate themselves in public favor. 
Whether this reform in tactics has been accompanied by a real 
change of heart, resulting in the abandonment of the old policy 
of exploitation, is a much-mooted question. One wishes that 
the evidences of such reform were more definite and plentiful. 

This campaign to capture the good will of the public may in 
time succeed, but one thing we may predict with reasonable 
certainty, namely, that it will make no permanent headway 
until private capital shall be willing to serve the public at a 
purely nominal profit; for it is intolerable in a democracy that 
private interests should exploit a public necessity. Much 
less grudgingly do the people pay a ten-cent fare to a mu¬ 
nicipally owned street railway than to one that is privately 
owned. It is the same with all other utilities; it is not merely 
the high rate that hurts, but the thought that some private 
capitalist is making a profit out of it. These facts should be 
handwriting on the wall for private utility interests. They may 
temporarily forestall public ownership by artful propaganda, 
but the only thing that will avert it permanently is a funda¬ 
mental modification of the profit-taking policy which makes 
business attractive to private capital. 

Present trends in the public utility field indicate that the 
whole question of private ownership under public regulation 
vs. public ownership and operation may in the not distant fu¬ 
ture be contested along entirely different lines from those of the 
past. Hitherto the utility question has been essentially a local 
question, and the issue has been between city ownership and 
operation and ownership and operation by a private company 
of local scope. But the day of local utilities has gone, and 
with it, perhaps, the day of local public ownership. The irre¬ 
sistible march of technology has brought us to the dawn of a 
new era in public utility matters. For the same reasons, or 
even stronger reasons, that the chain store has made tremen¬ 
dous inroads upon the domain of the independent local store 
the chain system of utility organization is driving the inde¬ 
pendent local utility, whether publicly or privately owned, to 
the wall. It is no longer economical from either a financial 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 


319 

or a technological standpoint to operate utilities on a strictly 
local basis. The development of efficient and economical means 
for the long-distance transmission of electric current, and also 
of water and gas, together with the integration of corporate 
control of water-power sites, gas fields, coal fields, and of finan¬ 
cial underwriting, have revolutionized the utility industry. 

It was scarcely a generation ago that municipal utilities 
first began to reach out into suburban territory and gradually 
to develop an inter-city business. This development raised 
the public utility question from the rank of a local problem 
to that of a state problem, and practically all of the states 
created regularly bodies, called public utility or public serv¬ 
ice commissions, which undertook the inter-community regu¬ 
lation that was manifestly beyond the reach of local authorities 
and which sometimes practically superseded the local author¬ 
ities in public utility regulations of a local character. This 
at the time was regarded as an almost revolutionary step in 
the direction of centralized political control necessitated by the 
growing helplessness of local authorities in the face of a prob¬ 
lem that had ceased to be altogether local. The helplessness 
of state utility commissions today is almost as great as that 
of local authorities a generation ago; for now we are con¬ 
fronted with the necessity of regulating titanic utility combina¬ 
tions, like the Middle West Utilities Company, the Central 
Public Service Company, and many others of their kind, whose 
vast systems are flung across the boundaries of a half-dozen 
or more states. The public utility problem has become an 
interstate, indeed a national problem; but national regulation 
is yet in its infancy; and national ownership, outside of Russia, 
is not dreamed of. 

Undoubtedly the great public utility issues of the future will 
revolve about the questions of national regulations vs. national 
ownership and operation. This, indeed, is distinctly betokened 
by the emphasis placed upon the public utility question by 
Governor Alfred E. Smith, the Democratic nominee in the 
presidential campaign of 1928. The emergence of this issue on 
the national stage foreshadows one of the bitterest struggles in 
the history of democratic government. National regulation, if 
and when it comes, may be sufficiently more effective than state 
and municipal regulation to delay the demand for public owner¬ 
ship on a national scale, although the history of public regula¬ 
tion casts doubt upon the supposition that it will. The con- 


The problem 
of large 
scale utility 
organization 


Are we drift' 
ing toward 
national 
control? 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The objects 
of regu¬ 
lation 


1. Service 


320 

solidation of private utility interests, and their intransigeant 
attitude towards public regulation will tend to bring the ques¬ 
tion of national ownership to the fore. 

There is no immediate prospect of any great progress in the 
direction of public ownership. That lies in the lap of the 
future. The present problem in regard to municipal utilities 
is one of devising and applying the most effective means for 
public regulation and control of utilities that are privately 
owned and operated; and that will continue to be the main 
problem for some years to come. Public regulation, whether 
municipal, state, or national, is directed towards the attain¬ 
ment of three or four major and fundamental objectives which 
must be considered at some length if we are to come to grips 
with the realities of contemporary public utility regulation. 

The first of these objectives is to secure for the public the 
best possible service. Whether it is so considered or not, 
service should be the primary object of public utility regula¬ 
tion. Gas that produces little heat, electric lights that wink 
and fade, telephone service that is undependable, street-cars 
that are uncomfortable, and water that is impure and unpal¬ 
atable are too costly even at less than cost. Good service is 
the summum bonum of public regulation, and if it cannot 
achieve that it is futile. 

The regulation of private utility companies so as to insure 
adherence to the standards of service required by the public 
is no easy undertaking. It is not enough merely to issue the 
imperative ukase saying thus and thus it shall be done. It 
will not be done unless potent and vigilant administrative 
officials are constantly applying the boot to the utility com¬ 
panies. Every public utility commission finds it necessary 
to maintain a large staff of inspectors, investigators, experts, 
and what-not for the purpose of carrying on a continuous proc¬ 
ess of surveillance the object of which is to check up on viola¬ 
tions of laws and orders regulating service. Even so, it often 
happens that penalties for violation of service regulations are 
not severe enough to insure compliance. The regulatory 
authorities must of necessity be as keen and proficient in 
public utility matters as the representatives of the company; 
otherwise they are at a great disadvantage in the tourney of 
wits incident to the enforcement of the law. How unlikely 
it is that the representatives of the public will be a match 
for the representatives of the company may be surmised by 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 321 

comparing the salaries paid to public servants and those paid 
to the skilled servants of the utility companies. When a mem¬ 
ber or employee of a public utility commission displays unusual 
acuteness and ability, the utility interests often manage to 
detach him from the public service by offering him employ¬ 
ment at a higher salary than he can ever expect to obtain on 
the public payroll. It is even alleged that the hope or expecta¬ 
tion of such offers has had a deleterious effect upon the morale 
of public utility commissions and their staffs, rendering them 
less vigilant in the public interest than they might otherwise be. 

The second objective of public regulation is reasonable 
rates. By reasonable rates is meant rates that are fair and just 
charges for the service rendered. The company is entitled to 
charge the consumers for the cost of the service and above 
that to charge enough to cover depreciation and provide a 
reasonable return upon the investment. These principles are 
so obviously sound that no one questions them. But when 
it comes to applying them in actual practice, we encounter 
bitter and interminable controversy. Take the matter of the 
cost of the service: what items should enter? It is usually 
agreed that the cost should include salaries, wages, construc¬ 
tion, equipment, repairs, rentals, interest, and insurance. But 
who is to determine and how is it to be decided whether the 
amounts charged on account of these operating costs are rea¬ 
sonable or excessive? What is to prevent the padding of ex¬ 
pense accounts and the juggling of cost figures? Can we not 
trust public utility companies to play fair with the public in 
matters of this kind? If we knew less about their history, it 
might be easier to trust them. Unfortunately there have been 
far too many cases of manifest conspiracy to job the public 
in matters of operating cost to warrant any great confidence 
in the integrity of the utility interests. There have been cases 
where one utility company would rent property and equip¬ 
ment from another at a preposterously high rate; where the 
chief stockholders of the first company would acquire a con¬ 
trolling interest in the second company, and thus reap an ex¬ 
cessive profit out of the huge rental payments coming via the 
first company from the pockets of the public. In numerous 
cases controlling officials in utility companies have organized 
construction companies, repair companies, and equipment com¬ 
panies which, by monopolizing the business of the utility com¬ 
pany (as they always could) and making excessive charges 


2. Rates 


Problems in 
rate-firing 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The question 
of depre¬ 
ciation 


322 

therefor, have fraudulently boosted the cost of service to the 
public and taken a handsome profit for themselves. In some 
cases the utility interests have maintained subterranean con¬ 
nections with insurance companies, banks, and various other 
financial concerns, and have thus fraudulently profited by 
excessive levies upon the public for interest, premiums, etc. 

In self-defense the public regulatory authorities are obliged to 
challenge the validity of virtually all cost figures submitted by 
utility companies and compel them to prove the case. So the 
question of operating cost is the source of continuous con¬ 
troversy. 

The question of depreciation also raises some differences of 
opinion. Depreciation is a recognized factor of operating 
cost in all business; but when it comes to the actual allowance 
which should be made for depreciation, there is no agreement 
at all. The utility company very naturally argues for a high , 
rate of depreciation, and the regulating authorities just as 
naturally for a low rate. The rate finally accepted is generally 
a compromise; for there is very little in the way of objective 
and incontrovertible data to clinch the case for any specific 
rate of depreciation. There is the further question, also, of 
whether changing price levels should be taken into account 
in making allowances for depreciation. In a period of rising 
price levels the actual market value of property may rise to 
the point where it exceeds the initial outlay. Has there been 
any depreciation under these circumstances? The property 
could be sold for more than it originally cost, but it could not 
be replaced for anything like the original figure. Should de¬ 
preciation be figured as the difference between original cost and 
replacement cost; or should the difference between present mar¬ 
ket value and original cost be figured as a gain to the company 
offsetting all depreciation? Time and use have certainly les¬ 
sened the practical utility of the plant, although in terms 
of cash its value has increased. Conversely, in a period of 
falling price levels the market value and also the replacement 
cost will fall far below the original cost. If the property can 
be replaced at a lower figure than it originally cost, what is the 
extent of its depreciation? Admitting that its utility has 
been impaired through age and use, it is possible nevertheless 
to replace it at a figure so much below the first cost that the 
loss through depreciation may be entirely absorbed by the 
gains resulting from low replacement cost. In such a period of 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 


323 

declining prices, moreover, the market value and' also the re¬ 
placement value may decrease at a much more rapid rate than 
the utility of the plant. What, then, is the rate of deprecia¬ 
tion? Manifestly there is plenty of room for difference of 
opinion on that point, as on nearly every other point connected 
with the subject of depreciation. 

The most highly involved question in ratemaking is, what 
constitutes a reasonable return upon the investment? First, 
what is a reasonable rate? Money invested in United States 
bonds realizes a return of 2^% to 3^%; money on deposit in 
savings account makes on the average about a 4% return; 
money loaned on real estate mortgages returns from 6% to 8%. 
Those are generally accepted as reasonable rates of return; but 
what makes them reasonable? If 3% is reasonable for govern¬ 
ment bonds, why is it not equally reasonable for real estate 
mortgages? Investors are willing to take 3% on govern¬ 
ment bonds because they are regarded as absolutely secure, 
have a high loan value, are untaxed, and are easily convertible 
into cash. Real estate mortgages are not on the average 
equally secure, do not have as high a loan value, and are diffi¬ 
cult to convert into cash; hence investors demand a higher 
rate of return. The more speculative the investment, the less 
its value as -collateral, and the greater the difficulty of con¬ 
verting it into cash, the higher the rate of return must be in 
order to attract investors. 

Judged by these criteria, where does the public utility indus¬ 
try stand on the scale of investments ratings? Public utility 
investments are more secure than the average — not as secure 
as government bonds or savings accounts, but more so perhaps 
than the average real estate mortgage; they have a very re¬ 
spectable loan value; and they are readily convertible without 
excessive sacrifice of the principal. They offer an attractive 
investment, therefore, to the person who attaches great im¬ 
portance to security and considerable importance to loan value 
and convertibility. To obtain these advantages people will 
be content with lower rate of return than they can obtain from 
more speculative investments. Experience has shown that a 
rate of return ranging between 5% and 7% is generally satis¬ 
factory to such investors; and consequently there has been an 
effort to restrict the rate of return in the public utility industry 
to 6% or thereabouts. Public utility companies invariably 
protest that this rate of return is too low to be fair to the 


What is a 

reasonable 

return? 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


How shall 
the com¬ 
pany’s in¬ 
vestment be 
computed? 


Public 
utility valu¬ 
ations 


324 

investor and that they cannot sell their securities on such a 
basis when they have to compete in the money market with 
the popular and better-paying securities of well-known indus¬ 
trial and commercial concerns. 

More difficult even than the determination of the rate of 
return is the question of the investment upon which it is to be 
allowed. The difference between 6% on $500,000 and 6% on 
$1,000,000 is $30,000, which illustrates the point that at a 
fixed rate of return the amount taken from the pockets of the 
public will vary with the magnitude of the investment. What 
does or should the investment of a public utility company rep¬ 
resent? Theoretically it represents the actual cash that has 
been put into plant, equipment, and other things necessary to 
set the company up as a going concern ready and able to serve 
the public. But the financing of public utility companies has 
so largely served the interests of the promoter and the specu¬ 
lator that there can be no assurance that what they claim as 
their capitalization actually represents cash invested in the 
industry. Stock bonuses, stock dividends, and other forms of 
stock manipulation have been so prevalent that no one knows 
what part of the capital stock of the company represents money 
invested in the business and what represents stock-watering 
operations that greatly enriched the insiders at the expense of 
the credulous public. Much the same may be said of the bond 
issues of the company. Debts incurred for capital purposes are 
rightfully included in the investment upon which the company 
is entitled to earn a fair return; but the financial practices of 
public utility companies have been so notoriously loose that it 
it hard to know whether or not the indebtedness of the company 
represents money really devoted to capital purposes. Not only 
have borrowings been freely used for current purposes, but 
there have been not a few cases of gross misapplication of bor¬ 
rowed funds to purposes remote from the proper functions of 
the company. 

The questionable character of the capitalization claimed by 
the companies has resulted in a demand by the regulating au¬ 
thorities for what is known as public utility valuations. A 
valuation is simply an appraisal, as is, of the capital value of 
the company for the purpose of arriving at a definite and accu¬ 
rate conclusion as to its present worth as a going concern. 
Paper capitalization is disregarded, and an attempt is made by 
careful and expert analysis of all the properties of the com- 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 


325 

pany and of all of the factors which contribute to its real 
value to arrive at an aggregate figure which will represent the 
amount of money which is actually serving the public, and 
upon which, therefore, the public should pay a return to the 
company. Public utility valuation is a highly technical and 
highly controversial subject. The utility interests have as a 
rule resisted valuation, but there seems to be no other basis of 
agreement between them and the public authorities as to the 
capital investment. It is true that the various utility boards 
and commissions have been none too fortunate in their selection 
of experts to conduct valuation studies, and that many mistakes 
have been made; but the almost invariable consequence of 
valuation has been to compel the utility companies to justify 
by concrete facts the validity of their claims, and this has had 
a most salutary effect upon their conduct. 

If the foregoing discussion of the rate problem has done 
nothing else, it has demonstrated the need for public control 
of the financial operations of the utility industry; and this is 
the third objective of public regulation of the utility industry. 
Only by careful and rigid supervision of stock issues, bond 
issues, contracts, purchases, and accounts can the public utility 
commission or other regulatory body acquire the information 
which is essential to intelligent regulation and at the same time 
prevent those nefarious financial practices which saddle undue 
costs upon the public. Nearly all public utility commissions 
now have authority to prescribe, control, and supervise account¬ 
ing methods. Public control over contracts and purchases is 
becoming increasingly common, and we are approaching the 
time when no utility company will be allowed to issue securities 
without special permission from the public utility commission. 

A noteworthy departure in public utility regulation during 
the past two decades is the service-at-cost plan. The essence 
of this plan is that the city and the company agree upon the 
principle of service-at-cost to be effectuated as follows: (1) 
The city and the company agree upon the capital investment, 
the figure being reached by a process of valuation in which 
they participate equally. (2) The city and the company agree 
upon the rate of return. (3) The city and the company agree 
upon a mode of determining operating costs. (4) The city and 
the company agree upon a sliding scale of rates, and provide a 
scheme for adjusting rates upward or downward in order that 
the agreed return may be always realized. (5) The city and 


3. Control 
of financial 
operations 
of company 


The service- 
at-cost plan 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


326 

the company agree that stock issues, bond issues, or borrowings 
of any other character, extensions, additions, capital improve¬ 
ments, and other transactions affecting either operating or 
capital costs shall be under public supervision and control. 
Service-at-cost has for the company the advantage of relieving 
it of the danger of financial adversity. When business falls off 
and its revenues decline, its rates are automatically increased 
under the service-at-cost agreement to keep its income up to 
the agreed rate of return. It is likewise assured that when its 
operating costs and capital investment are increased, as they 
may be by agreement with the city, its income will be corre¬ 
spondingly increased. For the city the service-at-cost plan has 
the advantage of stabilizing the relations between the city and 
the company and insuring to the city a means of controlling the 
fundamental operations of the company. Rates fluctuate, and 
unfortunately are likely to be higher in periods of depression 
than in periods of prosperity; but this is compensated for by 
the fact that they cannot be kited and kept high by artificial 
means. 

The service-at-cost plan is open to criticism on several 
counts, the most important being that it destroys the incentive 
for economical operation because of the ease of charging the 
cost of operation against the city. It is also argued that the 
fixed rate of return and the fixed valuation place the company 
at a serious disadvantage in competing in the marts of money, 
labor, and materials with concerns not so limited. However, 
the service-at-cost plan has not yet emerged from the experi¬ 
mental period. The most interesting fact about it from the 
standpoint of one concerned with drifts and trends is that its 
adoption is a definite step towards the socialization of the utility 
industry; for service-at-cost falls not far short of public owner¬ 
ship. Private initiative and private interest surrender almost 
completely to public service. 


Selected References 

A. C. Hanford, Problems in Municipal Government, Chaps. XXII, 

XXIII. 

F. C. Howe, European Cities at Work, Chap. X. 

C. C. Maxey, Readings in Municipal Government, Chap. XI. 

B. W. Maxwell, Contemporary Municipal Government of Ger¬ 

many, Chap. VIII. 


MUNICIPAL UTILITIES 


327 

W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. II, 
Chaps. XXXIV, XL, XLI, XLII. 

L. D. Upson, The Practice of Municipal Administration, Chaps. 
XXX, XXXI. 

J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chaps. 
XXXIV, XL, XLI, XLII. 

Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Ascertain the relationship of the utility concerns serving your 
community to the government of your city. 

2. Are you satisfied with the way in which the utilities of your 
community are being regulated? 

3. Do you think public ownership would improve the situation in 
your community? 

4. Would you prefer working for the city to working for a private 
utility company? 

5. Analyze your last month’s electric light or telephone bill with 
a view to ascertaining how much of your payment represented profit 
to the utility company. 

6. Do you think your bills for utility services would be lower 
under the service-at-cost plan than at present? 


CHAPTER XXII 

CITY PLANNING 


Haphazard city-building has been one of the most costly 
mistakes of the human race. Forgetting that a city is a place 
wherein people dwell and work out their destinies not in a day 
or a year or a decade but throughout generations and even 
centuries, men laying the foundations and guiding the devel¬ 
opment of cities have taken too little thought of the morrow. 
The layout of streets, the parcelling of land, the location and 
areas of parks and open spaces, harbor facilities, local trans¬ 
portation and other utility facilities are all planned, but gener- 
city planning ally by private individuals concerned principally with their 
necessity own immediate profit and advantage. Community planning 
of the physical development of the city and community con¬ 
trol of individual planning are of such recent origin that the 
world has yet to get used to them. Each generation, according 
to the custom long in vogue, pays for the mistakes of the past 
and charges its own mistakes to the future. It has taken a 
long time to make headway against this prodigal practice, 
and it is yet far from overcome. In recent years, however, 
the tremendous acceleration of technological progress and of 
economic and social forces has brought about such frequent 
and sweeping transformations of the physical structure of our 
cities that the cost of yesterday’s mistakes is too great for 
today’s generation to endure. To remake the physical features 
of the city once in a half-century or even once in a century 
lays a tremendous burden upon the resources of the com¬ 
munity; to do it once every decade or two is intolerable. 

Consequently there has been during the past dozen years, 
and especially since the motor vehicle has so greatly accen¬ 
tuated urban congestion, a tremendous surge of interest in city 
planning; for it has become evident that city planning, wisely 
conceived and prudently carried out, offsets and counteracts 
the costly discrepancies between past arrangements and present 
needs. City planning in the modern sense undertakes to modify 



CITY PLANNING 


329 


the present layout of streets, to control future developments 
in street arrangement, to regulate the plotting of subdivisions, 
to govern the development of public utility systems, to deter¬ 
mine the character and location of parks, playgrounds, and 
public buildings, to provide for water supplies and sewerage, 
to regulate and control the uses of private property in such 
ways as to eliminate obstacles to proper city growth and de¬ 
velopment, to promote sound progress in economic and social 
life, and to perfect and beautify the physical aspects and 
arrangements of the city so as to serve the needs of the future 
as well as of the present. 

The need for city planning is obvious everywhere, and par¬ 
ticularly in the United States where urban growth has been 
unusually rapid and very little subject to community control. 
The street plan of the average American city is an obstacle 
rather than an aid to the circulatory processes of urban life; 
parks and recreation fields are inadequate in size and character 
and imperfectly situated to serve the needs of the population; 
land plattings are not correlated with either the present or 
probable future requirements of the city as to open spaces, 
traffic channels, and industrial development; public utility 
systems, conforming to the existing street plan and building 
lot arrangements, find efficiency and economy most difficult to 
achieve; public buildings are improperly located both from the 
utilitarian and the aesthetic points of view; and housing 
facilities and property uses advertise the want of anything 
approaching judicious consideration of the present needs or the 
future welfare of the community. Like an untutored child, 
the American city has grown up without discipline or control, 
and now arrives at maturity with disorder and maladjustment 
as its most striking characteristics. 

“ City planning,” says Professor Munro, “ is often spoken 
of as a modern development and correctly so if we are thinking 
only of its widened scope. But certain physical features of 
community planning were the subject of expert study more 
than two thousand years ago. The cities of the ancient world 
were planned in part, sometimes in considerable part. But in 
the dark centuries which followed the overthrow of Rome 
this remnant of urban civilization disappeared along with 
many others; the older cities of mediaeval Europe became 
areas of indescribable squalor, while the newer towns grew 
up in chaos and wretchedness. . . . During the fifteenth 


The objects 
of city 
planning 


The need for 
city planning 


City plan¬ 
ning in for¬ 
mer times 


330 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


America’s 
lost oppor¬ 
tunity for 
city planning 


century some attention was given to civic replanning, particu¬ 
larly in the prosperous commercial cities of Italy and the 
Hanseatic regions, but this reconstruction never assumed com¬ 
prehensive proportions. The city played no great part in 
mediaeval life; it was merely an isle of safety; likewise a place 
of misery and pestilence; a sprawling slum which the rich and 
powerful and intelligent avoided whenever they could. What 
there was of romance and glamor and chivalry during these 
thousand years of European history associated itself with 
rural life.” 1 

Unfortunately it was during the benighted period thus viv¬ 
idly described that the principal cities of Europe took form; 
and by the time western civilization had advanced to the point 
where the importance of city planning was clearly appreciated 
the physical development of these municipalities had gone so 
far and had become so definitely solidified in the mediaeval 
mold that sweeping reconstruction was possible only when 
a city was razed by some titanic catastrophe or when a potent 
despot was able to override all opposition and remake a city 
according to his own fancy. But these opportunities did not 
often come, and were seldom capitalized to the fullest extent 
when they did. London rejected Sir Christopher Wren’s ad¬ 
mirable plan for the rebuilding of the city after the great 
fire of 1666, and thus lost her chance to become the model city 
of the western world. Paris gained some slight embellishment 
at the hands of the imperious Louis XIV, but Versailles was 
the child of his dreams. Peter the Great built himself a model 
capital on the Baltic, Frederick the Great beautified Potsdam, 
and various other potentates, under the spur of vanity, dabbled 
occasionally in the art of city building, but no comprehensive 
movement for city planning emerged until the latter years of 
the nineteenth century. 

The world’s most remarkable opportunity for city planning 
on a magnificent scale came with the colonization of the 
Americas. With the experience of Europe to guide them one 
might suppose that the founders of cities in the new world 
would have taken advantage of this unparalleled opportunity 
to lay foundations that would make permanently for beauty 
and utility in such combination as would provide for all the 
needs of urban life. But it was not done. The Latin Ameri¬ 
cans appear to have been somewhat more prone to civic embel- 

1 Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. II, p. 72. 


CITY PLANNING 


331 


lishment than their northern contemporaries, but did not evince 
much better understanding of the fundamentals of city plan¬ 
ning. Most of the early settlements in the United States were 
not planned at all, but grew up quite haphazard, as the older 
portions of Boston, New York, and other cities of colonial days 
eloquently testify. The one conspicuous exception was Phila¬ 
delphia, where William Penn laid out his famous gridiron plan. 
This simple plan with its parallel streets and rectangular inter¬ 
sections became the model after which the vast majority of 
American cities have patterned their street layout. It was the 
easiest of all plans to conceive and put into effect. Almost any 
bungling duffer could plat a townsite, and subdivisions could 
be laid out and tacked on almost anywhere by energetic real 
estate promoters. Furthermore, this rectangular plan was ex¬ 
ceedingly economical in its use of land for streets and other 
public purposes, leaving the largest quantum possible for pri¬ 
vate use, a feature which did not render it unpopular with 
private interests desiring to reap the utmost profit from the 
anticipated growth of the city. 

The supreme achievement in city planning in the United 
States is the national capital. At the time of the establish¬ 
ment of the District of Columbia Congress commissioned 
Major Pierre-Charles L’Enfant, a French military engineer 
who had served in the American forces during the Revolution, 
to prepare a plan for the proposed capital city on the Potomac. 
The plan evolved by L’Enfant made use of the gridiron arrange¬ 
ment of streets, but superimposed upon this a number of diag¬ 
onal thoroughfares connecting important points in the projected 
city. The large areas reserved for parks and public buildings 
and the numerous open spaces for landscaping and monuments 
render the city of Washington unique among American munici¬ 
palities. When we recall that the area embraced by the plan 
of Major L’Enfant has, during the past century and a quarter, 
been transformed from virgin wilderness to a city of a half¬ 
million souls, still remaining the best planned city in the United 
States and one of the best in the world, we can appreciate the 
wizardry of L’Enfant’s work. It is indeed regrettable that 
the L’Enfant plan instead of the Penn plan was not taken as 
model by the founders and builders of later American cities; 
but the city of Washington was too small in the early years 
to furnish a concrete object lesson, and the abstract features 
of the plan did not commend it to the practical American mind. 


The remark¬ 
able plan of 
Washing¬ 
ton, D. C. 


European 
progress in 
city plan¬ 
ning 


332 URBAN DEMOCRACY 

Europe never had America’s opportunity to plan and build 
cities from the ground up, and her progress in the science of 
city planning has been the more remarkable for that reason. 
The prodigious concentration of population in cities following 
the Industrial Revolution, in cities already overcrowded and 
underprovided with streets and open spaces, resulted in a 
clearer realization in Europe of the imperative necessity of city 
planning than in America where land was cheap and space so 
plentiful that vacant lots comprised a large portion of the area 
of the average city. It merely needed a striking example to 
stimulate all Europe to emulation, and this example was fur¬ 
nished by the city of Paris. The first Napoleon inaugurated a 
most ambitious program of municipal reconstruction in Paris, 
and when his nephew, Napoleon III, came to power he launched 
and carried through a program of rebuilding which has made 
Paris the cynosure of the western world. The planning and 
reconstruction movement initiated by the third Napoleon, in¬ 
stead of ending with the completion of a few striking projects 
or with the exit of the emperor himself from the political scene, 
has been amplified and expanded as time has gone on. The re¬ 
building of Paris now goes forward continuously and almost 
uninterruptedly. Recent news despatches (August, 1928) tell 
us that a gigantic city planning program involving the demoli¬ 
tion and rebuilding of some seventy streets has just been under¬ 
taken by the French capital. 

The achievements of Paris have inspired emulation through¬ 
out all Europe. In Germany particularly the city planning 
movement gained enormous popularity during the closing dec¬ 
ades of the last century. 

“ German cities,” says Dr. Frederic C. Howe, “ were unprepared 
for the industrial awakening and the rapid increase in population 
which began in the eighties. Those of the south were surrounded 
with fortifications over which the population spread into the out¬ 
lying districts. Land speculators began to lay off allotments with 
no other concern than their own immediate profit. Rings of mean 
streets appeared round about the old towns, while tenements were 
erected into which the population was herded much as it is in Eng¬ 
land and America. There was no adequate provision for industry, 
and factories located themselves anywhere without regard to the 
community, just as they do with us. In addition the old towns were 
built for military protection. The roadways were narrow and 
crooked. They were not designed for street railways or business 
traffic. There was little provision even for vehicles in mediaeval 


CITY PLANNING 


333 

times, when industry was of domestic character and the cities were 
congested into the smallest possible areas as means of protection 
from their many foes. Nor was there much concern for health and 
sanitation in those days. The sewers were inadequate, the streets 
badly paved, and the municipal life was for the most part grouped 
about the court or market place. 

“ This rapid urban growth threatened these old cities just as the 
tenements, springing up all around them, threatened the health and 
beauty of the community. The inner towns were not adjusted to 
modern industrial needs, while new standards of sanitation and 
health became necessary, as did more generous provision of air and 
light. Provision had to be made for the mill and the factory, for 
the railway and terminals. Parks, open spaces, and schools had to 
be provided in response to the democratic movement and the en¬ 
lightenment of the state which has gone hand in hand with the 
industrial revolution. 

“ The art of town planning had its birth in these necessities. . . . 
Germany determined that the city should be built with an eye to the 
needs of all its people as well as its highest industrial efficiency. And 
in a comparatively short time Germany has built industrial commu¬ 
nities as beautiful as Washington. There are factory towns as full 
of the joy of living as Paris. . . . The city is planned from the bot¬ 
tom up and from center to circumference. . . . There are munici¬ 
pal artists, architects, planners, engineers, and financiers, to whom 
the building of cities has become a science, just as much a science 
as the building of engines.” 2 

Once converted to the gospel of city planning, the cities of 
Germany forged quickly to the front as the leaders of the city 
planning movement, becoming at once the marvel and the 
model of the whole world. The debt of municipal science to 
Frankfort, Cologne, Diisseldorf, Dresden, Munich, Mannheim, 
and other leading German cities for object lessons in the diffi¬ 
cult business of city planning is enormous. Paris gave the 
world a single superb example of what could be done by a great 
capital city under the sway of imperial pretensions; Germany 
gave the world a demonstration of what could be done by any 
average city possessed of a determination to correct its past 
mistakes and control its future. The rapid and remarkable 
transformation of the notable cities of Germany from medi¬ 
aeval huddles into orderly, symmetrical, beneficent, and beau¬ 
tiful municipalities is one of the great social achievements of 
modern times, a phenomenon of incalculable influence. 


The rise of 
city plan¬ 
ning in 
Germany 


German 
leadership 
in city plan¬ 
ning 


2 Howe, European Cities at Work, pp. 86-88. 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The Ameri¬ 
can city plan¬ 
ning move¬ 
ment 


Basic prob¬ 
lems in city 
planning 


334 

In the United States the impact of the city planning move¬ 
ment was not perceptible until after the World’s Columbian 
Exposition at Chicago in 1893. The perfection of the architec¬ 
ture, landscaping, and grouping of the beautiful exposition 
buildings made an indelible impression upon the bourgeois mul¬ 
titudes which thronged the mid-western metropolis during that 
memorable year, and undoubtedly did much to stimulate inter¬ 
est in city beautification. Gradually throughout the country 
city after city formulated grandiose plans for the realignment 
of streets, the creation of civic centers, the building of parks 
and drives, and for the general embellishment of the municipal¬ 
ity. None of these, however, advanced much beyond the con¬ 
ceptual stage. Not until the prodigious urban concentration 
resulting from the industrial boom incident to the World War 
had brought many of our cities to the verge of civic and indus¬ 
trial paralysis did the city planning movement obtain serious 
recognition in this country. Beginning about 1916 our progress 
in city planning has been almost too rapid and too extensive to 
be followed in a brief survey. Scores of cities have instituted 
investigations and studies looking towards comprehensive city 
planning, and many have inaugurated, and wholly or partially 
carried through, reconstruction and developmental projects of 
titanic proportions. By virtue of state or municipal legislation, 
and frequently by means of both, zoning and other forms of 
property restriction have been introduced in hundreds of Ameri¬ 
can cities, and city planning boards have been fortified with a 
degree of power to control the social and economic factors 
which make and unmake the future of the city. The American 
city at last is launched upon the well-charted seas of city 
planning, though with certain limitations of capacity and cer¬ 
tain defects of equipment. 

City planning is both a remedial and a preventive measure, 
and comprehends four basic problems: (1) the problem of 
legal authority, (2) the problem of administrative organization 
and procedure, (3) the problem of the technical expedients 
necessary for carrying out the city plan, and (4) the problem 
of financing the construction projects essential to the execution 
of the city plan. 

The legal side of city planning is far more prominent in the 
United States than elsewhere. In most countries the only legal 
problem in city planning is that of obtaining adequate legisla¬ 
tion empowering the municipal authorities to proceed with the 


CITY PLANNING 


335 

development and execution of the city plan; but in the United 
States it is not only a question of securing the necessary grants 
of power but of reconciling these through the process of judi¬ 
cial review with the arbitrary prescriptions of our written con¬ 
stitutions. In this country the courts have the power to de¬ 
clare unconstitutional, null, and void, legislative acts which 
they deem to be in conflict with the provisions of our funda¬ 
mental instruments of government, whereas in nearly all other 
countries the function of reconciling legislative enactments with 
constitutional mandates belongs to the legislature itself. Out¬ 
side the United States, therefore, city planning legislation is 
valid and enforceable if enacted by a legally competent legis¬ 
lative body, while in the United States it is not conclusively so 
unless the legislation in question has run the gauntlet of judicial 
review and has been pronounced sound and constitutional by 
the highest judicial tribunals. 

The constitutional inhibitions with which most American 
city planning legislation is in danger of coming into collision 
are the common guarantees for the protection of personal and 
property rights. The national constitution and all the state 
constitutions forbid the taking of life, liberty, and property 
without due process of law, the denial to any person of the 
equal protection of the laws, the impairment of the obligation 
of contracts, and the taking of private property for public use 
without just compensation. The construction placed upon 
these prohibitions by the various state and federal courts puts 
beyond the pale of constitutional sanction all police legislation 
which does not commend itself to the courts as in keeping with 
our traditional principles and usages in government. The 
courts have repeatedly held that the safeguarding and promo¬ 
tion of public health, safety, and morals and perhaps certain 
other imperative public needs will justify legislation encroach¬ 
ing upon the realm of individual freedom in matters of per¬ 
son and property; but unless such a justification can be shown, 
the courts view all such legislation with suspicion and disfavor, 
however good its purpose and however salutary its effect. 
Moreover, when public health, safety, morals, and other vital 
exigencies are made the basis of legislative interference with 
private rights, the courts are wont to exhibit with reference to 
such legislation a glacial skepticism which puts upon the pro¬ 
ponents of the measure the burden of proving to the satisfac¬ 
tion of sometimes narrowly legalistic judges the existence of a 


Differences 
between the 
legal side of 
city planning 
in the United 
States and 
in Europe. 


Constitu¬ 
tional diffi¬ 
culties in the 
United States 


Recent ju¬ 
dicial tend¬ 
encies more 
liberal 


33 6 URBAN DEMOCRACY 

rational relation between the legislative expedients adopted 
and the advancement of one of those fundamental objects for 
which the police power may be properly employed. 

In the field of city planning this predisposition of the judi¬ 
ciary to literal, strict, and traditional interpretation of consti¬ 
tutional guarantees has placed serious and often insurmount¬ 
able barriers in the way of the execution of city planning 
projects. Attempts to fix building heights, to prescribe the 
set-back of buildings from the street line, to regulate the con¬ 
struction and location of billboards, to establish restricted zones 
for the various industrial, commercial, and residential uses, to 
condemn and appropriate land in sufficient quantity to protect 
the future of an improvement, and to restrict private freedom 
in various other ways essential to sound city planning have 
often met with checkmate and rebuff at the hands of the courts. 
Aesthetic values have almost never appealed to the courts as 
having sufficient social importance to warrant police legisla¬ 
tion, nor have the courts been conspicuously more generous in 
sustaining legislation designed to promote the general comfort 
and convenience of the public. Fortunately, however, the. last 
two decades have witnessed a remarkable thawing of the judi¬ 
cial attitude towards city planning, and we now often find 
courts laboring to discover plausible relations between particu¬ 
lar regulations in the interest of city planning and the promo¬ 
tion of public health, safety, and morals. If they cannot, for 
example, uphold billboard legislation on aesthetic grounds they 
may discover that billboards constitute a potential menace to 
the morals and safety of the community. Thus they indulge 
the comfortable consciousness of not breaking with the legal 
dogmas of the past and at the same time give the affirmative 
nod to progressive legislation. Indeed, the Supreme Court of 
the United States, in the recent (1926) case of the Village of 
Euclid vs. the Ambler Realty Company, went so far as to de¬ 
clare, in upholding a drastic zoning ordinance, that modern 
social and economic developments make it necessary to disre¬ 
gard precedents almost altogether. Such decisions have opened 
the way for American cities to proceed with ambitious and far- 
reaching undertakings in city planning, not without reference 
to judicial sanction as in Europe, but with the judicial blessing 
bestowed as a reward for pursuing the tortuous trail of litiga¬ 
tion to the end. 

The problem of administrative organization and procedure 


CITY PLANNING 


337 

for the effectuation of city planning does not present serious 
difficulties. Practically all city departments are in some way 
involved in the operations incident to city planning, but it has 
been found that the conception, formulation, and execution of 
a city plan is not a task that can be readily and effectively dis¬ 
charged by existing agencies of government. There must be an 
agency capable of considering the problems and needs of the 
city as a whole and of articulating and correlating the processes 
of all departments in the carrying out of the city plan. In the 
earlier days of city planning it was quite common for an un¬ 
official committee of citizens to be selected for the duty of 
preparing recommendations for a city plan. These bodies 
would perform their advisory function, make their report, and 
then dissolve, leaving to the city council and other agencies of 
government the responsibility of putting their recommenda¬ 
tions into effect. What followed as a rule was that the report 
was duly received, applauded, discussed, and then pigeonholed; 
for no one felt any immediate responsibility for carrying the 
matter beyond the report stage. However, as the exigencies 
of municipal life have become more desperate and as the need 
for city planning has, therefore, become more immediate and 
imperative, it has become obvious that city planning is a con¬ 
tinuous problem calling for the creation of official planning 
agencies of a permanent character. 

In the United States at the present time almost the first step 
in city planning is the creation of an official planning body, 
commonly known as the city planning commission. The power 
of the city government to institute such an agency and empower 
it to function as director of the city plan depends upon the 
extent of the city’s freedom from central control. In many 
cases the city is entirely dependent upon central authority and 
can make no move in city planning without the sanction of the 
central government. By special statutory or constitutional 
authorization, however, cities in some states have come to en¬ 
joy large freedom in instituting the city plan and providing 
the machinery for its execution. In either case the city plan¬ 
ning commission generally consists of from five to fifteen per¬ 
sons who are as a rule appointed by the mayor of the city with 
or without councilmanic confirmation. It is not uncommon to 
include in the membership of the city planning commission cer¬ 
tain officials, as the city engineer, the superintendent of parks, 
or the corporation attorney, as ex officio members. The com- 


The problem 
of adminis¬ 
trative organ¬ 
ization for 
city planning 


The city 
planning 
commission 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The powers 
of city plan¬ 
ning com¬ 
missions 


Scope of 
planning 


The street 
problem 


338 

mission, being primarily a deliberative body whose members do 
not give full time to its affairs, generally has a secretary who 
is charged with responsibility for its administrative business. 

The powers of city planning commissions vary widely, but 
may generally be comprehended under one of the following 
heads: (1) purely advisory, (2) approbative, (3) initiative, 
and (4) compulsive. All planning commissions have powers 
of a purely advisory nature, and some have no other kind of 
power. The commission is merely authorized to make studies, 
prepare plans, and submit recommendations, but has no posi¬ 
tive authority. In addition to advisory powers some cities have 
endowed their planning commissions with a certain amount of 
approbative power, that is, power to approve or disapprove 
legislative proposals and administrative actions bearing upon 
the city plan. In some instances the disapproval of the com¬ 
mission operates as an absolute veto, and in other cases it has 
merely the effect of a suspensive veto. Some cities also have 
given their planning commissions power to take the initiative 
in proposing matters for action to the legislative body of the 
city, and require the legislative body either to accept or reject 
measures proposed by the city planning commission. Finally, 
in a limited number of municipalities, the city planning com¬ 
mission has been given compulsive power to initiate and carry 
through projects just as though it were a city council or a 
board of public works, subject usually to the same financial 
restrictions as are operative against the legislative body of the 
city. As has just been intimated, such positive authority is not 
very frequently given, but advisory, approbative, and initiative 
powers are quite freely bestowed upon city planning bodies. 

The technical, or what might be called the “ planning ” side 
of city planning, embraces the planning and control of street 
developments, the regulation and control of public utility de¬ 
velopments, the proper location and articulation of terminal 
and waterfront facilities, the planning and development of park 
and playground facilities, civic art in all its public aspects, 
housing, and what has come to be styled zoning. 

The street problem is the first stumbling block of all city 
planners. There are very few opportunities for street planning 
ab initio, and most modern cities find the recasting of their 
street arrangements almost prohibitively costly. The best that 
can be done by a city whose street layout has definitely crystal¬ 
lized is to control its peripheral development so as to provide 


CITY PLANNING 


339 

a proper street plan for the unbuilt portions of the city, and 
to correct by reconstruction as opportunity arises the most 
serious defects of its existing street plan. It is not often that 
the wholesale demolition and rebuilding of streets becomes 
possible; but it is always possible to straighten and widen 
streets that carry an exceptionally heavy flow of traffic, to 
eliminate bad grades, dangerous crossings, and blind corners, 
to connect up dead-end streets with thoroughfares that lead 
somewhere, and to correlate building lines and building heights 
with the character and capacity of the appurtenant streets. 
Such measures produce many problems and difficulties, but 
none that are insurmountable. Scores of cities during the last 
few years have substantially remade certain of their main 
arteries of traffic by procedure of the kind outlined above. 
In many of these cases it has been necessary for the city 
to acquire sufficient property by purchase or condemnation to 
make possible the razing or removal of buildings standing in the 
way of widening, straightening, or otherwise adapting streets 
to the needs of modern traffic. This has been a slow and ex¬ 
pensive process and has often precipitated obstructive and 
dilatory legal battles; but insistent public demand for relief 
from the intolerable distress incident to traffic congestion has 
usually triumphed in the long run. 

Although a general revamping of its street plan may be out 
of the question, it is possible for every city to establish a basis 
of control and a method of procedure which, if consistently 
applied over a long period of time, will eventuate in a pro¬ 
found transformation of the character and arrangement of its 
streets. Continuous control of this kind, gradually altering 
the nature of the street as changing business conditions alter 
its use, should be the immediate as well as the ultimate object 
of every city planner. A city is a living, growing thing; 
reconstruction and readjustment are always going on in the 
social and economic processes of city life; the city is forever 
being rebuilt. By rigorously and intelligently regulating the 
private rebuilding of the city to conform to the terms of a com¬ 
prehensive and far-seeing city plan, it may be possible in 
course of a half-century or a century to effect a remarkable 
metamorphosis of street uses and arrangements. Changes 
which await the delayed outcome of such slow-moving 
methods must of course be driven through by more arbitrary 
means. 


Importance 
of control¬ 
ling the fu¬ 
ture develop¬ 
ment of 
streets 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The beauti¬ 
fication of 
the city 


The values 
of beauty 


Civic art 


340 

The casual eye perhaps is more attracted by the beautifica¬ 
tion and embellishment of streets than any other feature of city 
planning. It may seem to be an exaggeration of the importance 
of secondary matters to say that the city must definitely con¬ 
trol such matters as the planting, care, and removal of trees, 
the placing of lighting standards, the erection of signs, the loca¬ 
tion of statuary, and the utilization of sites for monumental 
buildings; but in no other way is it possible to realize the dream 
of the city beautiful. Private taste and private judgment un¬ 
controlled by public authority rarely produce harmonious orna¬ 
mentation of streets. Certain species of trees, for example, are 
suitable only for residential districts, while others may be 
used most effectively on business thoroughfares; certain types 
of planting may be necessary in one portion of the city to 
conform to the general character of the city plan, while in 
another part of the city a wholly different type of planting 
may be necessary for the same reason. Certain types of orna¬ 
mental equipment may be suitable for business streets and en¬ 
tirely inappropriate for residential streets. The only way to con¬ 
trol the development of streets and boulevards so that they will 
give the appearance of being integral parts of a beautiful and 
well-composed civic scene is through the exercise of governmen¬ 
tal authority. 

Nor should it be supposed, as certain practical-minded peo¬ 
ple are wont to believe, that civic beautification is a matter 
of secondary importance as compared with city planning for 
industrial, commercial, and other material ends. The divi¬ 
dends of civic embellishment may be less tangible but they 
are no less real than the dividends of civic control of the factors 
conditioning the economic processes of life. The advertising 
value of city beautification is well known; but the tremendous 
contribution of civic beauty to the mental and physical health 
of the city’s inhabitants, to the development of social idealism 
and the fostering of civic loyalty, and to the advancement 
of good citizenship and the furtherance of cultural progress 
is but faintly appreciated at the present time. 

Along with the beautification of streets go all other phases 
of civic art, including such problems as the location and 
landscaping of statues and monuments, the architecture and 
grouping of public and semi-public buildings, and the design 
of viaducts, bridges, and similar structures. These cannot 
be safely left to private determination, or even to the judgment 


CITY PLANNING 


341 

of the average city council. Though it is perhaps a harsh rule 
that denies private philanthropy the right to ornament the city 
at will, such a rule is the city’s only protection against the 
gaucheries and grotesqueries of private taste. Only by mak¬ 
ing the approval of the city planning authorities a necessary 
condition for the final determination of all matters affecting 
civic art can the city be assured that the beauty and sym¬ 
metry of its plan will not be marred by innumerable monu¬ 
ments to the bad taste of well-meaning citizens. 

The question of the proper location of parks, playgrounds, 
and other recreational facilities we have already considered in 
Chapter XVII. As was pointed out there, it is highly important 
that these should be planned as to size, design, and location 
to serve the needs of all classes and conditions of people, as 
well as all sections of the city. It should be further recog¬ 
nized, however, that these recreational properties are of 
transcendant importance in the development of a city plan. 
They afford opportunities for the development of civic and 
community centers, for the laying out of drives and boulevards, 
for the most effective location of fountains, sculpture, museums, 
and various structures of an ornamental nature, and also for 
the development of housing schemes and zoning plans on a 
highly perfected basis. A city without a system of parks, 
recreation grounds, boulevards, drives, etc., of a systematic 
and comprehensive character, planned and developed to supply 
the general contours within which the details of the city plan 
may be etched as the city grows, lacks one of the most funda¬ 
mental ingredients of a city plan. 

City planning has sometimes been viewed as nothing more 
than an aesthetic cult of great interest to professors and 
women’s clubs but of no great significance to the practical 
life of the city. Persons who entertain such curious prejudices 
are usually devoid of all conception of the bearing of city 
planning upon such knotty and immensely practical problems 
as the efficient development of public utility systems, the 
proper location and utilization of port and terminal facilities, 
real estate promotion, housing developments, and the regula¬ 
tion of property uses and developments. 

A city may lay its sewers and water mains without plan and 
forethought, meeting current needs as they arise and giving 
little attention to probable future needs and developments. 
But the city which pursues this improvident course is sure 


Parks and 
the city plan 


City plan¬ 
ning and the 
municipal 
services 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Costliness of 
failure to 
plan 


342 

to come to grief through failure to anticipate future exigencies 
and to make provision today, when it should be easy and 
inexpensive to do so, for meeting tomorrow’s needs as they 
arise. It is the same with rapid transit facilities, with terminal 
facilities of all kinds, and to a very considerable extent also 
with telephone and gas and electric distribution systems. 
Every one realizes how painfully expensive it is to lay and 
re-lay water and sewer lines, but few appreciate that practically 
the same situation arises in the readjustment of all other utility 
services to meet the requirements of a growing city. The 
only way to avoid such mishaps is through faithful ad¬ 
herence to a city plan which will control the construction oper¬ 
ations of utility services so as to insure building with ref¬ 
erence to anticipated future developments. The street railway 
and other rapid transit facilities of the city should not be 
allowed to grow in a haphazard and disconnected way, but 
should be evolved as a carefully planned system coordinated 
at all points with a definite city plan. Such has not, of course, 
been the experience of the great majority of cities. Street-car 
tracks have been laid and lines of service have been extended 
to meet the exigencies of promotional speculation and inter¬ 
corporate rivalry rather than to meet the real transportation 
needs of the public and to provide intelligently for the future 
growth of the city. And it is this fact quite as much as the 
financial distress occasioned by wartime inflation and post-war 
deflation that has necessitated many of the costly and distress¬ 
ing readjustments which have taken place in the street railway 
industry during the past fifteen years. 

Most cities have been similarly neglectful of the importance 
of planning in the development of gas, electric light, and tele¬ 
phone services. We pay an enormous price for allowing these 
utilities to determine their extension policies with reference to 
the schemes of private real estate speculators rather than ac¬ 
cording to the actual present and probable future needs of the 
city as shown by a well-considered and comprehensive city 
plan. It is reflected in both the rates we pay and the service 
we get. Overbuilding in sparsely populated sections of the 
city and underbuilding in the more densely inhabited sections 
are almost universal mistakes in public utility development. 
Somebody has to pay for the thousands of poles, the miles of 
wire, and the miles of rails used to carry utility services to 
vacant lots all over the city; somebody has to pay for the 


CITY PLANNING 


343 

replacements and additions necessary to serve sections of the 
city where the existing equipment is inadequate; and that 
somebody is always the consuming public. City planning which 
controls physical development of the city and correlates public 
utility development with this controlled growth of the city 
would avoid the costs incident to overbuilding and under¬ 
building. 

We have also been blind to the vital importance of terminal 
and waterfront facilities. We have permitted railways to locate 
freight and passenger terminals according to their own caprice 
and without much reference to street plan, local transit facili¬ 
ties, population centers and movements, and industrial and 
commercial necessities. Oftentimes a single railway has been 
allowed to grab the right of way along the most valuable 
water frontage in the city and hold it to the exclusion of all 
other transportation interests and in defiance of the welfare 
of the city as a whole. We have allowed water terminal and 
railway terminals to be located and built without much thought 
of correlation, and with little or no consideration of the prob¬ 
lems of harbor development. It is true as a rule in every city 
that it costs more to get one hundred pounds of goods from the 
cars or the ship to the consignee a few blocks across the city than 
to transport the same consignment a thousand miles or more 
across land or sea. City planning can do much to avert the 
excessive costs of terminal transportation. A soundly con¬ 
ceived city plan includes as one of its essential features the 
location and correlation of all terminal facilities so as to reduce 
to a minimum the time and labor factors in terminal opera¬ 
tions. 

The provision of housing facilities for the population is not 
commonly regarded as a governmental function, although the 
emergencies of the war and post-war periods have caused 
some venturing in this field. Nevertheless cities are deeply 
concerned with the housing problem because of its obvious 
relation to the safety, health, morals, and general well-being 
of the people. Many expedients have been adopted to fore¬ 
stall the building of undesirable tenements and to encourage 
the construction of tenements conforming to proper standards 
as to safety and sanitation. Since the war the economic side 
of the housing problem has been even more prominent than 
the structural side. How to secure any housing facilities at all, 
let alone proper housing facilities, at reasonable rates of rental 


The price of 
unplanned 
terminal 
facilities 


City plan¬ 
ning and 
housing 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Evils of 
uncontrolled 
property uses 


344 

has been the puzzling problem municipal authorities have 
had to face. City planning, or the absence of it, has a very 
direct and immediate relation to the housing problem. Short¬ 
comings in city planning produce congestion of population, 
inflation of land values, improper use of building sites, and 
many other conditions inimical to housing developments of 
the right kind. A well-conceived city plan, although it will not 
insure the kind and quantity of housing construction needed 
by the city, will, if faithfully and efficiently adhered to, re¬ 
move the most serious obstacles to the realization of that much- 
desired end. 

One of the newest turns of the city planning movement is 
what has come to be styled “ zoning.” This development is 
the child of urgent necessity. For many years our cities have 
tolerated indiscriminate use of land and buildings within the 
urban area for almost any purpose the owner might desire if it 
did not constitute a common law nuisance. About the only 
form of restriction was that of covenants in deeds, and this was 
none too effective. The imposition of such restrictions, and 
likewise their enforcement, depended almost entirely upon 
private initiative. Furthermore they were not and could not 
be uniform through the city, could not last indefinitely, and 
could not be enforced without much trouble and expense to the 
complaining property owners. The ineffectiveness of restric¬ 
tions on property uses, or the utter absence of any such restric¬ 
tions, has caused most of our cities to be visited with a pesti¬ 
lential procession of economic tribulations. We have seen 
vast sections of our cities blighted, established values wrecked, 
and sound future progress frustrated by the repeated intrusion 
of noisome and corrosive property uses in districts devoted to 
less offensive purposes. We have seen choice residential sec¬ 
tions destroyed by invading mercantile or industrial establish¬ 
ments, fine retail and apartment districts spoiled by the in¬ 
trusion of garages, laundries, and dry cleaning establishments, 
and splendid commercial sections ruined by factories, mills, 
and packing plants. The ruin of a district by the invasion of 
subversive uses has brought tremendous losses to property 
owners through depreciation and equally tremendous gains 
to speculators able to take advantage of the chaotic fluctua¬ 
tions of property values resulting from such causes. But the 
sound and stable development of the commercial and industrial 
life of the community has been seriously and sometimes per- 


CITY PLANNING 


345 

manently retarded by the security and uncertainty incident to 
this frenzied dancing of property values. 

To counteract such evils, various German cities, and later 
cities elsewhere in Europe, and finally in the United States, 
have resorted to the device of setting aside certain areas, dis¬ 
tricts, or zones, as they came to be called, for each important 
type of industrial, commercial, or residential use, and then 
maintaining the special character of these zones by legal and 
administrative means. Describing the methods of control in 
vogue in Germany, Dr. Frederic C. Howe said in 1917: 

“ Cities determine the uses to which land can be put by the 
owners. Factories are required to locate upon the railway or har¬ 
bor and on the side of the city away from the prevailing winds. . . . 
Terminals and railway connections are built with switches, sidings, 
and spurs which are linked up with the canals and water-ways to 
insure economical handling of freight. . . . The territory near the 
factory district is dedicated to workingmen’s homes, where the 
streets are planned with this object in view. In the neighborhood, 
parks, playgrounds, and public baths are usually provided. . . . 
Cities still further control the growth of the city by what is known 
as the zone system. The council divides the city into districts in 
which the building regulations are fixed in advance of local develop¬ 
ment. These building ordinances prescribe: (1) The amount of 
land that may be covered by buildings; (2) the height of the struc¬ 
tures that may be erected; (3) the distances they must be located 
back from the street, and (4) the space which must be left between 
the buildings.” 3 

At the time of the writing of those lines the zoning idea 
was such a novelty in the United States that not more than 
a half-dozen American cities had enacted zoning ordinances, 
and those were tentative and experimental. Ten years later 
nearly five hundred American cities had adopted zoning laws 
of more or less comprehensive character, some of them being 
more advanced than anything that has yet appeared in Europe. 
Although American cities were more backward than European 
cities in taking up the zoning idea in the first place, the Protean 
consequences of the complete motorization and industrializa¬ 
tion of urban life in America have spurred the cities of this 
country to go faster and further in the development of zoning 
methods and technique than most European cities. 

Contemporary zoning practice in the United States pro- 

3 Howe, op. cit., pp. ioo-ioi. 


Zoning in 
Germany 


Zoning de¬ 
velopments 
in the United 
States 


Contempo¬ 
rary zoning 
practice 


Practical 
limits of 
zoning 


346 URBAN DEMOCRACY 

vides for the division of the city into three kinds of districts 
— use districts, height districts, and area districts. Each of 
these in turn may be subdivided into as many subdistricts 
as the variegation of social and industrial conditions in the 
city may render expedient. Use districts are commonly of six 
different kinds — single dwelling districts, multiple dwelling 
districts, retail business districts, commercial districts, ordi¬ 
nary industrial districts, and heavy industry districts. Height 
districts are usually divided into four or five different classes 
according to the maximum building heights prescribed for each 
structural use, and area districts are likewise subdivided ac¬ 
cording to the amount of ground space to be used for building 
purposes. The use districts are first determined, and upon 
these are superimposed height and area districts determined 
according to the nature of the use district. Thus if a given 
district should be designated as a retail business district, it will 
also be designated as a height and area district which will per¬ 
mit only the type of construction suitable for or not incongru¬ 
ous with retail business uses, that is to say, the height of the 
construction permitted and the amount of ground space to be 
covered will be such as to foster construction for retail busi¬ 
ness uses only. Likewise if the district should be designated 
as a single dwelling district, height and area restrictions will 
be applied to control the use of land so that nothing but single 
dwellings may be erected. So with all other uses. The idea 
is to assign a certain area to a certain type of use, and then to 
impose and enforce restrictions which will keep out all uses 
which would destroy the character of the district. 

If a city could be built anew from the ground up, it would 
be possible by the zoning arrangements just outlined to control 
absolutely the development of every area in the city. Use 
districts would be laid out with corresponding districts to reg¬ 
ulate height and area, and all non-conforming uses and struc¬ 
tures would then be inhibited. But in applying zoning to a 
city that is already largely built up it is impossible to accom¬ 
plish so complete a reformation of the social and economic 
texture of the city. Non-conforming uses can be excluded 
from a use district in the future, and future building operations 
can be made to comply with height and area restrictions; but 
non-conforming uses already located in a use district cannot 
be expelled or non-conforming buildings summarily torn down. 
The only thing that can be done is to prohibit improvements 


CITY PLANNING 


347 

and renewals which would perpetuate the non-conformity, and 
then when in course of time obsolescence causes the abandon¬ 
ment of buildings devoted to non-conforming uses to compel 
the removal of the use to its proper zone or district and to for¬ 
bid the reconstruction of the building except in conformity with 
zoning restrictions. 

The administration of zoning law is usually confided to a 
board or commission, sometimes the regular city plan commis¬ 
sion and sometimes a special body. The functions of this body 
are to carry out the details of the zoning law and make such 
adjustments and modifications as circumstances render expe¬ 
dient and just. It is impossible of course for a zoning plan to 
be drawn with such perfect prevision of all future contingen¬ 
cies as to make changes and deviations unnecessary. After the 
formulation of the plan and the establishment of the districts 
the usual scheme is to require that all building plans and all 
building uses shall have the approval of the city planning or 
zoning commission. The commission is then empowered to 
rectify errors made in passing upon building permits, to decide 
borderline and exceptional cases, to vary the literal require¬ 
ments of the zoning law in cases where there are practical 
difficulties or unnecessary hardships, and to prescribe alterna¬ 
tive methods of fulfilling the purposes of the zoning plan. 
In this way the commission is able to control all future de¬ 
velopments and at the same time suspend the strict enforce¬ 
ment of the law where conditions make it desirable and proper. 
This function calls for the highest impartiality and integrity, 
and also for a profound understanding of community needs and 
interests. 

Another phase of city planning that is now receiving in¬ 
creased attention is what has been termed regional planning. 
Some sections of both the United States and Europe have be¬ 
come so completely urbanized that it is impossible for a single 
municipality to launch and carry out a city plan without con¬ 
sideration of and adjustment to the plans and programs of 
neighboring municipalities. Particularly is this true in the vast 
urban areas tributary to such great metropolitan centers as 
London, Paris, Berlin, New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, Bos¬ 
ton, and San Francisco. There has arisen accordingly a move¬ 
ment for regional planning. Regional planning goes no further 
in most cases than the creation of an advisory body to attempt 
the articulation and coordination of the planning programs of 


Administra¬ 
tion of zon¬ 
ing 


Regional 

planning 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Financing 
city planning 


The increased 
use of special 
assessments 


348 

the constituent municipalities in the region concerned. In a 
few such cases, however, regional planning boards with posi¬ 
tive legal authority have been established. These bodies exer¬ 
cise a general supervision over the city planning arrangements 
of all municipalities under their jurisdiction, and in one or two 
cases they have displaced and acquired the powers of all other 
city planning bodies. 

Financing the city plan is not a subject to which the city 
planning enthusiast is inclined to give much thought; but it 
not infrequently happens that the most serious obstacle to com¬ 
prehensive city planning is that of finding the money necessary 
to underwrite the land purchases, the rebuilding operations, 
and the constructional and improvement programs essential to 
the execution of a city planning program. In the United States, 
where cities commonly operate under constitutional or statu¬ 
tory restrictions as to taxation and indebtedness, the financial 
problems incident to city planning are frequently more com¬ 
plex than those encountered by European cities. The financial 
powers of European cities are not subject as a rule to rigid and 
specific statutory or constitutional inhibitions. The European 
municipality, with the sanction of the proper central adminis¬ 
trative authorities, may generally levy taxes or borrow money 
in any amount and for any purpose, whereas in the United 
States there is no way for a city to surmount the explicit pre¬ 
scriptions of the law by means of administrative sanction. 

Since cities may obtain money in but three ways to finance 
their various activities — taxation, borrowing, and special as¬ 
sessments — and since the arbitrary and inelastic legal limita¬ 
tions just referred to seriously cramp the taxing and borrowing 
powers of American cities, there has been in this country a pro¬ 
nounced movement to finance city planning by special assess¬ 
ments. Special assessments are levies or charges made upon 
property abutting, adjoining, or in the vicinity of an improve¬ 
ment, and not upon all parcels of property in the city. Such 
special charges are levied upon the abutting or near-by prop¬ 
erty on the theory that the improvement enhances the value 
of the property and thereby confers a benefit upon the prop¬ 
erty owner for which he may be justly charged. According to 
American law the general rule is that special assessments may 
be levied only when the property derives a special and peculiar 
benefit from the improvement, and then not to exceed the 
amount of the benefit. It is obvious, therefore, that certain 


CITY PLANNING 


349 

kinds of city planning improvements cannot be readily financed 
by the special assessment method. Of such character perhaps 
are monuments, public buildings, bridges, viaducts, and some 
kinds of parks and playfields. Street improvements, boule¬ 
vards, local parks and playgrounds, and various kinds of street 
ornamentation are generally considered to confer sufficient 
benefit upon the near-by property to warrant the use of spe¬ 
cial assessments to cover part, if not all, of the cost of the 
improvement. 

It is always a question, however, whether it is sound policy 
to load too heavy a burden upon adjoining or near-by property, 
even though it may be assumed to be benefited more exten¬ 
sively than property more remotely situated from the improve¬ 
ment. It may be doubted whether the enhancement of the 
market value of the property is always a correct standard for 
measuring the real distribution of benefit, and it is quite 
probable in the case of some improvements that there are 
benefits to non-property owners and to the owners of remote 
parcels of property that are not reflected in the real estate mar¬ 
ket quotations. There is also the question of whether it is good 
social policy to localize the interest and the responsibility for 
improvements that are essential to the working out of the city 
plan as a whole. 

Nevertheless under the legal restrictions upon the financial 
capacity of municipalities which prevail quite generally in the 
United States there is bound to be increased recourse to special 
assessments as a convenient means of obtaining relief from the 
severe circumscriptions of state constitutions and municipal 
codes. Special assessments are not computed in determining 
regular tax rates, nor are special assessments bonds included 
in calculating the indebtedness of the city, and this fact af¬ 
fords a loophole of escape from the inflexible financial limita¬ 
tions under which most cities labor. But as pointed out above, 
many improvements cannot be financed by special assessments, 
and the number of such improvements is increasing as the scope 
and operations of city planning are broadened. If the city s 
financial limitations do not permit it to finance such improve¬ 
ments by general taxation or borrowing, the city’s only recourse 
is to strive for a relaxation of its taxing and borrowing restric¬ 
tions, or to find a means of circumventing them. The. former 
expedient is difficult to accomplish because state constitutions 
and statutes are not often changed to accommodate a single 


The question 
of burden 
and benefit 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


350 

city or even a group of cities. This fact has driven many cities 
to evasion. One of the favorite modes of evasion is the crea¬ 
tion of special municipal corporations coterminous, or nearly 
so, with the city itself and fortified with separate taxing and 
borrowing powers. This explains in part the rapidly growing 
number of port districts, park districts, and other local im¬ 
provement districts which bedeck the municipal scene in the 
United States. 


Selected References 

A. C. Hanford, Problems in Municipal Government, Chaps. XII, 
XIV. 

F. C. Howe, European Cities at Work, Chap. V. 

C. C. Maxey, Readings in Municipal Government, Chap. IX. 

W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. II, 
Chaps. XXVI, XXVII, XXVIII. 

L. D. Upson, The Practice of Municipal Administration, Chap. XII. 
J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chaps. 
XXVI, XXVII, XXVIII. 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Why is city planning a more urgent need today than it was a 
century ago? 

2. Show by concrete examples how zoning affects property values, 
city beautification, the development of public utility services, and 
commercial and industrial developments. 

3. What major objects should be sought in laying out or in re¬ 
making the street plan of a city? 

4. Is there any rational ground for the common assertion that city 
planning will pay for itself? 


CHAPTER XXIII 

LOCAL CONVENIENCES AND IMPROVEMENTS 


One of the chief purposes served by the corporate organiza¬ 
tion of urban communities is to enable the inhabitants of the 
community, acting as a corporate entity, to provide and main¬ 
tain the physical facilities which are essential to their conven¬ 
ience and comfort and satisfaction as members of a congested 
society. The streets of the city, like the roads of the coun¬ 
try, are thoroughfares; but, unlike country roads, they are 
much more than thoroughfares. They have to carry traffic, 
both pedestrian and vehicular, usually much heavier than the 
traffic of the rural thoroughfares, and in addition have to serve 
as channels for light and air and as passageways for sewers, 
conduits, tracks, and various other necessities of urban life. 
Very naturally, therefore, the streets of the city require treat¬ 
ment quite different from the country highways. In matters 
of drainage, sanitation, and waste disposal we find much the 
same contrast between city and country conditions. It is not 
merely that health and safety and economic welfare demand 
sewers, pavements, sidewalks, street lights, and waste collec¬ 
tion— of course they do — but that the massing together of 
people creates a demand for what might be styled community 
comforts — things that would be sought for comfort’s sake 
irrespective of their value in promoting health, safety, or mate¬ 
rial welfare. It is a curious fact, as intimated above, that the 
desire for municipal comforts and conveniences has furnished 
the original incentive for the formation of municipal corpora¬ 
tions quite as often as the urgency of more vital problems. 

Nearly all local comforts and conveniences in some way in¬ 
volve the use of the streets, and we shall therefore begin with 
the problem of street improvements. Perhaps the first fact to 
recognize in making street improvements is that the problem is 
not confined to the surface of the streets. The sub-surface 
structures are just as important as the surface structures, and 
should be planned as carefully in advance. One of the most 

35i 


Municipal 
conveniences 
have fur¬ 
nished one 
of the chief 
motives for 
formation of 
municipal 
corporations. 


The problem 
of street im¬ 
provements 


The pave¬ 
ment prob¬ 
lem 


How pave¬ 
ment should 
be selected 


3S2 URBAN DEMOCRACY 

distressing sights in the average city is the gutting and ripping 
up of perfectly sound and sometimes practically new pave¬ 
ments in order to put in pipes, conduits, or other underground 
structures. This is not a sign of municipal progress, but of 
municipal stupidity. Most of the pavement openings which 
keep our cities looking like battlefields could be avoided 
by the exercise of a little foresight and firmness. No pave¬ 
ment should be laid until all the sub-surface structures which, 
according to the forecasts of common sense, will be needed dur¬ 
ing the life of the pavement have been placed in the ground. 
Property owners should be fully notified and given ample op¬ 
portunity to connect their property with sewer, gas, water, and 
other mains before the pavement goes down. Once the pave¬ 
ment is laid, openings should be permitted only when emer¬ 
gencies render it necessary; and if the emergency is chargeable 
to the neglect or dereliction of the property owner, he should 
be made to pay heavily for the opening permit. Only in this 
way can the city protect itself against the inconvenience of 
street openings and the premature deterioration of its pave¬ 
ments as a consequence of them. 

The street-improvement questions which chiefly agitate the 
mind of the average citizen are the type of pavement to be 
used and the manner in which it is to be paid for. The ques¬ 
tion of the type of pavement to be selected for the particular 
street is primarily a technical one which should be settled in 
the end by the engineering department of the city. Unfortu¬ 
nately, however, lay prejudices have to be placated, and 
sometimes politics altogether supersedes sound professional 
judgment. City councilmen have been known to disregard 
engineering recommendations, even to disregard the wishes of 
the abutting property owners, in order to favor paving com¬ 
panies which had taken the precaution of “ salting the palms ” 
of the members of the council. Nor are all municipal engineers 
free from prepossessions traceable to the judicious tipping of 
the paving companies. 

The determination of the kind of paving to be placed on a 
particular street is a many-sided problem. The following fac¬ 
tors have to be taken into consideration: the grade of the street, 
the amount of shade on the street, the soil and drainage condi¬ 
tions to be encountered, the climatic conditions to be encoun¬ 
tered, the volume and nature of the traffic the street will be 
obliged to carry, the character of the neighborhood and its 


LOCAL IMPROVEMENTS 


353 

probable development, the original cost of the pavement, cost 
of upkeep, the character of the pavement surface from the 
standpoint of safety and comfort, and also from the standpoint 
of ease and cost of cleaning. All of these, as can be readily 
perceived, are matters that require detached and careful study 
by experienced specialists.' It is folly to allow such matters to 
be settled by lay opinion. If competent and trustworthy ex¬ 
perts are not to be found in the engineering department of the 
city, the city should rehabilitate its engineering staff. And if 
the engineering department is worthy to be trusted in such 
matters, the council should be obliged to follow its recom¬ 
mendations. 

All types of paving material and all methods of paving con¬ 
struction have their good and bad points. A summary of these 
will show the necessity for careful study in the choice of a 
pavement for a particular street. For temporary use on out¬ 
lying streets, side streets, and alleys some cities still find it 
expedient to lay over the surface of the street a covering of 
gravel, cinders, or ashes. This is not pavement, properly speak¬ 
ing; but for streets that are not subject to more than casual 
traffic such inexpensive surfacing may defer the need for pave¬ 
ment until such a time as financial conditions will permit a 
more durable and satisfactory covering. Much the same may 
be said of oiling streets or covering them with superficial coats 
of bituminous material, and also of water-bound macadam. 

Of the hard-surface pavings the most commonly used are 
brick, asphalt, concrete, granite blocks, and wood blocks. 
Brick pavements, in those sections of the country where pav¬ 
ing brick is available at reasonable costs, have proved to be 
very acceptable. The initial cost is relatively low, the pave¬ 
ment is durable, and the surface offers greater security under 
bad weather conditions than most other forms of pavement. 
The riding qualities of brick pavement are not equal to those 
of some other types, but are not seriously objectionable. Brick 
pavements are very noisy under horse-drawn traffic, are dirty 
and difficult to clean, and under some conditions are hard to 
repair so as to restore anything like the original riding surface. 

Asphalt paving is probably the most popular of all. Of the 
several kinds of asphaltic pavement, the most common is sheet 
asphalt. The initial cost of asphaltic pavement is generally 
greater than is the case with other forms of pavement; but the 
ideal character of the paving under proper conditions generally 


Temporary 

surfacing 

materials 


Brick 


Asphalt 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Concrete 


Granite 

blocks 


The im¬ 
portance of 
a paving 
program 


354 

justifies the additional outlay. Sheet asphalt presents a smooth, 
clean, and relatively noiseless riding surface. For residential 
streets and boulevards, where the grades are moderate and the 
traffic conditions favorable, it is a most satisfactory form of 
paving. But it does not stand up well under the heavy pound¬ 
ing of commercial and industrial traffic; it is dangerously slip¬ 
pery in rainy or freezing weather; and it is susceptible to rapid 
deterioration under certain climatic conditions. Asphalt block 
has been used with considerable success where conditions de¬ 
mand a more durable and secure surface than sheet asphalt; 
but no form of block paving can be as smooth and clean as 
sheet paving. 

Concrete is a close competitor of asphalt, and has been gain¬ 
ing popularity very rapidly in recent years. Concrete paving 
claims most of the advantages of asphalt. It can be laid in 
sheets and thus present a smooth riding surface; it is clean 
and relatively noiseless; and it presents a somewhat better 
tractive surface under rainy and icy conditions than asphalt. It 
stands up fairly well under severe traffic conditions, and, if 
properly constructed, withstands climatic extremes quite well. 
Under city conditions it has the disadvantage of being less easy 
to patch and keep in repair than asphalt. Concrete paving 
is as a rule much less costly than asphalt. Asphaltic concrete 
is now coming into general use, and is considered by many 
authorities to be superior to either the straight asphalt or the 
straight concrete types of pavement. This is a concrete in 
which asphaltic cement is used instead of the usual Portland 
cement. 

Granite block pavement may be called the pavement eternal, 
but it is expensive, dirty, and noisy; and is suitable for use 
only in industrial and commercial sections where something 
that will resist continuously heavy battering must be used. 
Wood block pavement was at one time very popular; but it 
has been found not to be as well adapted to automobile traffic 
as to horse-drawn traffic, and is therefore being discarded. 

Every city should have an intelligent and well-balanced pav¬ 
ing program, though few do. The selection of streets to be 
paved and the order in which they are to be paved are all too 
frequently left to the initiative of the abutting property own¬ 
ers, or to the dictates of political expediency. It should be 
obvious to all that street improvements should be closely cor¬ 
related with traffic currents and trends. Arterial thorough- 


LOCAL IMPROVEMENTS 


355 

fares, bearing the heaviest traffic in and through the city, 
should be selected for improvement first; then the principal 
feeders of the main thoroughfares, and lastly the little-used 
tributaries and side-streets. It is a sad commentary upon the 
intelligence of the citizenry of an urban community to find 
numerous out-of-the-way streets that lead nowhere splendidly 
paved while the principal streets, especially those connecting 
with the main inter-city thoroughfares, remain in a condition 
of sad neglect. A street improvement program based upon an 
exhaustive survey of traffic movements and needs, and then 
adhered to, will avoid such discreditable conditions. 

The street improvement program is not complete if it stops 
with the initial paving; it should include also a repaving pro¬ 
gram. No pavement can last forever, and under the strain of 
heavy traffic few pavements can survive more than a decade. 
Under light residential traffic the life of a good pavement may 
be extended to twenty years or more. But the point is that 
we should realize at the time a pavement is laid down that 
it will have to be replaced, and that the time of replacement 
is determinable from the nature of the use to which it is sub¬ 
jected. Repair and maintenance operations will keep a pave¬ 
ment in good condition for a certain length of time; but in¬ 
evitably the day comes when it is more economical to repave 
than to repair. Unless, however, there is a definite repaving 
schedule properly correlated with the original paving program, 
it is quite probable that the city will continue to mend and 
patch long after it has ceased to be good business or good 
engineering to do so. 

In regard to the financing of paving improvements there is a 
wide divergence of practice between European and American 
cities. The cost of paving in Europe is defrayed by appropria¬ 
tions from the general treasury of the city, but most American 
cities follow the practice of assessing all or part of the cost 
against the adjacent property. A survey made in 1927 by 
the Kansas City Public Service Institute, covering eighteen 
leading American cities, showed that eight of them defray 
the entire cost of pavement by assessments upon the abutting 
property; that six of them require the abutting property to pay 
all but the intersections; and make no special levies upon the 
property affected. Eleven of these cities assess the cost of re¬ 
paving against the abutting property just the same as the orig¬ 
inal paving, three assess only a portion of this cost, and four 


Repaving 


How paving 
costs are 
met in the 
United States 


/ 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


European 
and Ameri¬ 
can practice 
in financing 
paving costs 
contrasted 


356 

do not assess the adjacent property at all. The practices of 
the eighteen cities covered by this survey are typical of Ameri¬ 
can usages in the financing of street paving. 

The European practice of meeting the cost of pavements 
from the general treasury rests upon the hypothesis that pav¬ 
ing, wherever located, is a benefit to the whole city and should 
be charged against the community as a whole. The American 
practice of special assessments is founded upon the hypothesis 
that the property directly adjoining a paved street is peculiarly 
and especially benefited as compared with property on other 
streets; that its utility and sale value are greatly augmented 
by the paving of the street; and that it is therefore justifiable 
to levy the cost of the improvement upon the property bene¬ 
fited. We shall not argue the economic soundness or social 
justice of these divergent doctrines. In practice both have 
certain advantages and disadvantages. The European idea 
has the virtue of enabling the city to proceed with a program 
of street improvements without much consideration of local 
sentiments and reactions. Under the special assessment sys¬ 
tem it is commonly necessary to obtain the consent of a majority 
of the property or property owners on the street before the 
improvement can be made; and even when such is not the case 
no city council would impose such a burden upon property 
owners without consulting their wishes. Local feeling, there¬ 
fore, determines the policies of the city. Often a few ob¬ 
structionists can forestall improvements that are desperately 
needed not only from the standpoint of the residents of the 
street but from the standpoint of the whole community. Con¬ 
versely, ardent local boosters may bring about the improvement 
of streets unnecessarily and unwisely. Under the European 
system these consequences are not likely. On the other hand, 
the special assessment system reduces the chances of pork-bar¬ 
rel politics by compelling each locality to pay for its own street 
improvements, and also avoids the circumscriptions of munici¬ 
pal tax and debt limitations, as these special levies are not 
counted in computing tax rates and indebtedness. Under the 
special assessment plan streets in the well-to-do sections of the 
city are kept up in good shape, while the streets in the tene¬ 
ment sections whose owners are non-residents are likely to be 
neglected. But when pavement costs are defrayed out of gen¬ 
eral revenues, the sections which have the most votes will be the 
ones most favored. 


LOCAL IMPROVEMENTS 


357 

Of sidewalks little need be said, although they are just as 
important as pavements. The technical questions in sidewalk¬ 
building, such as design, grade, base, composition, etc., belong 
to the field of engineering. The cement sidewalk has come 
into well-nigh universal use. in American cities, and, if properly 
constructed, meets most of the requirements of a good side¬ 
walk. Brick and flagstone walks are found in the older Ameri¬ 
can cities and in Europe, but are gradually going out of use. 
Sidewalks are very commonly charged against the adjacent 
property. 

The sewer system of the city serves two primary purposes 
— drainage and sanitation. Drainage would be important 
enough to justify the outlays for sewers if there were no ques¬ 
tion of health involved. The sewers of the city carry away 
street waters resulting from rainfall and melting snow, under¬ 
ground seepages which manage to filter into the sewers, and 
in addition to this the run-off of the water supply system of the 
city as used for domestic and industrial purposes. The quantity 
of sewage discharged through these indispensable organs of 
elimination is prodigious, and is growing more rapidly than 
the rate of population growth, the reason being that we are 
constantly developing new domestic conveniences and new 
industrial processes which make increased demands upon sew¬ 
ers. It would be interesting, for example, if some mathemat¬ 
ical wizard could figure out the increased demand upon our 
water supplies and sewer facilities occasioned by the develop¬ 
ment of the electric-powered washing machine for domestic 
use. Certainly the old-fashioned laundress did not begin 
to use as much soap and water as these machines do. New de¬ 
velopments in sanitary plumbing have also added to the load. 

There are two plans of sewage collection, known as the 
separate and combined systems. The separate system provides 
one system of pipes for domestic sewage and a wholly different 
system for surface waters and industrial wastes. The com¬ 
bined plan carries all sewage in a single system of pipes. Which 
system is to be preferred is to be determined by local condi¬ 
tions. Only unusual circumstances can justify the construction 
of two separate sewer systems; but there are conditions which 
make it both economical and wise to do so. Whether such 
conditions actually exist can best be determined by a competent 
sanitary engineer. The topography of the city, the amount 
and seasonal variation of rainfall, the means of sewage disposal, 


Sidewalks 


The sewer 
problem 


Sewerage 

systems 


The value of 
a well- 
planned 
sewerage 
program 


Sewage dis¬ 
posal and 
treatment 


35 g URBAN DEMOCRACY 

and various other important factors must be taken into consid¬ 
eration in arriving at a conclusion. 

The design and construction of sewers are not matters for the 
layman. The problem is not merely one of engineering and 
construction but of demographic analysis and prognostication; 
for sewers are not built for a day. The planner of sewers 
must look years ahead and calculate the needs of the city as 
they will be a generation or more hence. “ Millions of dollars,” 
says Dr. Upson, “ lie buried in useless or partly useless sewers 
in the streets of American cities because no real wisdom was 
shown in their planning.” 1 Consideration must be given to 
many factors of a determinative character. Present population, 
probable rate of future growth, trade wastes as determined by 
industrial and commercial conditions present and future, topog¬ 
raphy, drainage areas, rainfall, and the relation of sewage 
disposal to water supplies — these are some of the factors 
which must be weighed in planning a sewage system. And 
not until such studies have been made is it possible to proceed 
intelligently with questions of trunk and lateral lines, of gradi¬ 
ents and velocities, of materials and methods of construction, 
and other technical matters in sewerage engineering. 

The growing necessity for the purification of sewage before 
disposal has given rise to some of the most difficult problems 
in the realm of sanitary engineering. Cities situated on the 
seaboard or on the banks of large streams or lakes have usually 
been able to discharge their sewage into these bodies of water 
without purification; but a great many inland cities, not being 
so fortunate in means of sewage disposal, have been obliged 
to purify their sewage before its final discharge. This necessity 
is now becoming almost universal; for with the growth of popu¬ 
lation and the increasing use of lake and seashore beaches, 
together with the growing utilization of all water supplies, 
cities can no longer discharge their sewage into the “great 
waters ” with safety to either themselves or their neighbors. 

A discussion of the methods of sewage treatment for purifi¬ 
cation would take us on a lengthy excursion into the field of 
bacteriology, for which we have not time. Suffice it to say that 
the basic principle of almost all of them is to provide sufficient 
oxygen to sterilize the sewage by normal bacterial processes. 
The particular method to be adopted is a matter for expert 
determination. No city should embark upon an expensive 
1 Upson, The Practice of Municipal Administration , p. 470. 


LOCAL IMPROVEMENTS 


359 

program of sewage purification without consulting the most 
competent specialists available. 

The importance of street lighting as a means of protection 
against accident and crime and as a method of facilitating 
the necessary movements of. population after nightfall has been 
recognized from earliest times; but only recently have we 
begun to appreciate the value of street lighting in the promotion 
of business and in the facilitation of recreation. Darkness 
no longer checks the pulse-beat of urban life as in former 
times when the fall of night was supposed to see every good 
citizen safely immured in his own household. Despite the 
fact that feeble efforts were made to light important thorough¬ 
fares and intersections by means of tallow candles and oil 
lamps, the burgher of a century or so ago, when he ventured 
abroad at night, went at his own risk. There was not light 
enough to be of any great benefit, and, being wise in his own 
day and generation, he usually carried a lantern to supplement 
the faint illumination of the street lamps. No successful form 
of street illumination was developed until after the beginning 
of the last century when gas lighting came into general use. 
Marvelous though the gas lamp was, as compared with candles 
and oil lamps, it was nevertheless far from a perfect or satisfac¬ 
tory means of street illumination. It was not until after the 
introduction of the electric arc lamp, and really not until after 
the invention and development of the tungsten filament and 
the gas-filled tungsten bulb, that people began to see what 
street lighting could mean. 

For automobile traffic, extensive and effective street illumina¬ 
tion is imperative. Unlighted streets or improperly lighted 
streets are a menace to both motorists and pedestrians; and if 
the sensational rise of the automobile had not been paralleled 
by equally amazing developments in the science of illumina¬ 
tion, the utility of the automobile on city streets would have 
been limited to the daylight hours. We now know how to light 
streets so as to reduce the dangers of night traffic to an inconse¬ 
quential minimum, but we have been reluctant to incur the ex¬ 
pense necessary to put such lighting systems into operation. 
The time may come, however, when traffic accidents charge¬ 
able to poorly lighted streets will be deemed an evidence of 
gross civic dereliction. 

Improved and perfected street illumination is not only es¬ 
sential to modern vehicular traffic but is also a valuable aid to 


Street 

lighting 


Motor traffic 
requires ef¬ 
ficient street 
lighting. 


The business 
value of 
street light¬ 
ing 


Street light¬ 
ing facilitates 
recreation 
and aids in 
the control 
of crime. 


Policies as 
respects 
street light¬ 
ing 


3 5 o urban democracy 

business and recreation. It becomes possible to transact busi¬ 
ness at all hours, because both the handicap of darkness is over¬ 
come and the movement of population is facilitated by well- 
lighted streets. Certain types of business profit directly and 
immediately by this, and all are helped. Confectioners, tobac¬ 
conists, restaurateurs, druggists, and theater operators are 
enormously benefited, of course; and even banks, trust com¬ 
panies, and other financial institutions have found it possible 
to make profitable use of evening business hours made avail¬ 
able by well-lighted streets. And all retail stores which make 
use of window displays profit greatly by their ability to show 
goods to large number^ of people out of business hours far 
more effectively than the same goods may be shown by win¬ 
dow displays or any other method in daytime. Trucking 
and hauling may be done at night at a great saving of time 
and money, and also without inconvenience to the daylight 
routine of business. 

To say that recreation and social intercourse are greatly 
stimulated by good street lighting is to put the case mildly. 
Facilities and opportunities for recreation are made available 
that are impossible when the streets and thoroughfares of the 
city are shrouded in Stygian blackness from nightfall to day¬ 
break. This applies not only to commercial amusement facili¬ 
ties, such as dance halls and theaters, but to public parks, play¬ 
grounds, boulevards, and even beaches. We gain leisure not 
merely in the sense of release from toil but in the sense of 
opportunity to come and go and to do things which increase 
our human contacts and afford means of recreation and enjoy¬ 
ment. 

Of the importance of street lighting in the maintenance of 
order and the suppression of crime too much cannot be said. 
Darkness is a shield to the wicked and a screen to evil-doers. 
Light frustrates the criminal and restrains the rowdy. The 
lighter the streets of the city, the easier it is to police them 
effectively. Careful statistical studies have shown a definite 
correlation between street illumination and the incidence of 
crime. 

Public policies as respects street lighting are of two kinds: 
policies as to the provision of illumination, and policies as to 
methods and standards of illumination. The chief point of 
controversy as to the provision of illumination is whether the 
city should light its streets by means of a municipally owned 


LOCAL IMPROVEMENTS 361 

lighting plant or should contract with a private utility com¬ 
pany. Cities which own and operate electric light and power 
plants selling current to private consumers always light their 
own streets. Cities which have no such electric plants have 
to choose between the contract system and the operation of 
municipally owned lighting plants for street illumination alone. 
The issue here is not quite the same as the question of public 
vs. private ownership of utilities. The city gives the private 
lighting company a free field as far as domestic consumption 
is concerned, but has its own plant for street lighting. The 
chief arguments in favor of this practice are that it is more 
economical for the city and that such a plant is better able to 
meet the requirements of the city than a privately owned plant 
devoted primarily to domestic and industrial service. The 
validity of these arguments depends upon the size of the mu¬ 
nicipality and the management of its street lighting plant. 
In a small city it is scarcely possible that there could be much 
economy in the maintenance of a lighting plant for street light¬ 
ing alone; the street area to be lighted would not be sufficient 
to justify the outlay and the necessary operating costs. On the 
other hand, it is easily conceivable that a large city with many 
streets of diverse character and requirements to be lighted 
could effect extensive savings by the operation of a municipal 
street lighting plant. Under the system of contracting with 
a private corporation for street lighting the city is more or 
less at a disadvantage both as to the terms of the contract 
and the service rendered under it. There is as a rule, no 
competing company to which the city may turn in the event 
of dissatisfaction with existing contract, and the difficulties 
of securing faithful compliance with the terms of the con¬ 
tract are often sufficient to warrant the investment required 
for a municipal street lighting plant. Furthermore, it is often 
quite inexpedient, if not impossible, to reduce to written terms 
to be binding over any considerable period of time the con¬ 
tractual arrangements between the city and the company; 
for the city’s lighting problems and needs are changing con¬ 
stantly and often very rapidly. The municipally operated 
plant enables the city to make adjustments without difficulty 
as needs and conditions change. 

Policies of the city as to methods and standards of illumi¬ 
nation are conspicuous by their absence. We do not yet ap¬ 
preciate the fact that illumination has become a science ca- 


The question 
of methods 
and standards 
of illumina¬ 
tion 


Essentials of 
an illumina¬ 
tion program 


3 6 2 URBAN DEMOCRACY 

pable of definite utilization in the solution of city problems. 
The average urban community is not conscious of any serious 
lighting problems, and therefore has evolved no lighting pro¬ 
gram. Obvious needs have been met in obvious ways, by 
scattering street lights here and there as seemed appropriate 
to the aldermanic mind. Influential citizens and districts 
have been able to have lights just about as wanted, whether 
needed or not, and less fortunate portions of the city have 
groped in darkness. “ Great white ways ” and their lesser 
counterparts have been created in response to the demands 
of business interests, and in many cases they have been much 
too white and far too long. But as for a consistent and com¬ 
prehensive lighting program the average city knows no such 
thing. 

The lighting program of the city should be based upon a 
careful survey by competent illumination engineers of the city’s 
lighting needs and problems. All streets should be studied and 
classified according to their lighting requirements. Streets in 
prominent retail sections need more light than streets in whole¬ 
sale or residential sections. Arterial thoroughfares, no matter 
where located, need different lighting, and usually greater illu¬ 
mination than less used streets. Streets in theatrical and 
amusement districts have peculiar lighting problems that are 
not found elsewhere. The lighting survey, as suggested above, 
will determine which portions of each street are to be treated 
as residential, retail, wholesale, or amusement districts; and 
upon the basis of this information a plan for lighting the street 
can be laid out. The exact amount of illumination needed for 
each particular purpose, and likewise the best mode of provid¬ 
ing it, should be reserved for decision by experienced techni¬ 
cians. It is not a matter that can be safely reposed in lay 
judgment. Experts on illumination are not themselves agreed 
as to such matters as the lighting intensities required for dif¬ 
ferent kinds of streets, lamp spacings, lamp arrangements, 
mounting heights, and lamp designs; but even so the expert is 
much more likely to arrive at sound conclusions than the un¬ 
informed and inexperienced layman. The lighting plan for 
each street, as well as for the city as a whole, must be an elastic 
affair contemplating always growth and change. Prudent ad¬ 
ministrators will always attempt to forecast future trends be¬ 
fore committing themselves definitively to any plan of illumi¬ 
nation. 


LOCAL IMPROVEMENTS 363 

The disposal of municipal wastes, other than sewage, is also 
a matter that has come in recent years to assume increased im¬ 
portance as a governmental function. The day when the house¬ 
holder could be expected to dispose of his own garbage, ashes, 
rubbish, and refuse materials has passed. The city must look 
after waste disposal, and likewise clean the streets and remove 
the snow in winter. Garbage disposal in the modern city in¬ 
volves two distinct operations and problems. The first has to 
do with the collection of garbage, and the second with its 
treatment or disposal after collection. Some cities still permit 
the indiscriminate mixing of garbage, ashes, rubbish, etc., and 
dispose of the resulting mixture by dumping or by incineration. 
The more common practice, however, is to require the separa¬ 
tion of garbage, ashes, and other refuse materials, and to collect 
and dispose of them by different methods. Under this system 
of separate collection and disposal garbage is usually disposed 
of by feeding to swine or by reduction or incineration. Some 
cities operate their own garbage collection service, while a great 
many still adhere to the older practice of contracting with pri¬ 
vate individuals and firms to do this work. Garbage collection 
by private firms under contract with the city has come into 
disrepute in a great many places owing to corruption and un¬ 
conscionable profiteering. It is difficult to safeguard the con¬ 
tracts adequately and to supervise the collection service closely 
enough to avoid serious abuses. This fact has induced a great 
many cities to turn to municipal collection and disposal. Di¬ 
rect municipal collection is probably no more efficient and pos¬ 
sibly no more economical than private collection under contract 
when the latter method is properly controlled and supervised; 
but it does seem to offer greater security against graft. 

The relation of garbage disposal to public health renders 
it inadvisable for the city to leave that matter entirely in private 
hands. If the city is small, it may be feasible to rely upon 
swine feeding to absorb most of the city’s garbage, but this 
is out of the question for a large community. Some few cities 
are so situated that they have found it possible to dispose of 
garbage by dumping into the sea or other large bodies of water 
or by filling low or swampy ground; but these methods of 
disposal are not available to all cities, and have not been 
wholly satisfactory in the cities where they have been used. 
Nearly all large cities, therefore, have been driven to adopt 
some method of garbage treatment which will render it inoffen- 


The disposal 
of municipal 
wastes 


The han¬ 
dling of 
garbage 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Garbage 

disposal 


Handling 

rubbish 


Systems of 
rubbish col¬ 
lection 


364 

sive and innocuous. Reduction and incineration are the meth¬ 
ods most commonly used. By reduction is meant the cooking 
of garbage so as to extract greases and render the residue 
available for fertilizer. Whether garbage reduction pays — 
that is to say, whether the products can be marketed for a re¬ 
turn that will meet any considerable part of the cost of reduction 
— is highly problematical. Some cities have been fairly 
successful with garbage reduction, while others have junked 
garbage reduction plants and abandoned reduction as a com¬ 
plete failure. At the present time there is a marked trend 
towards incineration or cremation of garbage. From a sanitary 
standpoint this is by far the most satisfactory method of dis¬ 
posal, and under favorable circumstances it may be no less 
economical than other methods. 

The collection and disposal of rubbish involves questions of 
much the same character as have been discussed in connection 
with garbage. Collection is either by direct municipal labor 
or by contract, and the processes are almost identical with 
those used in garbage collection, except for certain necessary 
differences in equipment. Disposal of rubbish is not as difficult 
as is disposal of garbage. Rubbish is more satisfactory for 
filling, and may be dumped with greater safety. Where filling 
and dumping are not possible, incineration has been used with 
considerable success. It has been found possible to salvage 
a great deal of the material that goes to the rubbish heap, 
and some cities have been markedly successful with salvaging 
operations. 

From the standpoint of the householder the most important 
matters connected with the collection and disposal of garbage 
and rubbish are the frequency of the collection, the time of the 
collection, the duties imposed upon the householder in prepar¬ 
ing the materials for collection, and the cost to the house¬ 
holder. A well-organized system of waste collection will pro¬ 
vide collection service according to the needs of the district 
as determined by a careful study of its waste production and 
collection needs. The intelligent administrator will impose 
as few duties and inconveniences on the householder as possible. 
It is fairly easy to get the cooperation of householders in 
keeping garbage, ashes, and rubbish in different containers, 
and complying with other simple requirements. But when 
householders are required to wrap garbage in paper before 
placing it in the container, to carry containers to the street 


LOCAL IMPROVEMENTS 


36s 

curb, or perform other burdensome operations, their non¬ 
cooperation is likely to defeat the collection system. Most 
cities nowadays, whether operating under the direct system 
or the contract system of collection, defray the costs of collec¬ 
tion out of general city funds. The older scheme of assessing 
the cost directly upon the householder was never popular and 
very often defeated its own ends. Abstractly it may be fair 
for each household to pay the cost of its own refuse disposal; 
but the administrative difficulties in such a system are almost 
insuperable. 

The problem of street cleaning has undergone great modifica¬ 
tion since the automobile has conquered the horse-drawn vehi¬ 
cle. Animal droppings now constitute a minor part of street 
dirt. This has greatly simplified the problem of cleaning the 
streets. The principal sources of street dirt now are papers and 
refuse thrown on the streets by pedestrians, leaves, dirt and 
debris from hauling and building operations, soot and dust 
from the air, and material from the wear of the pavements. 
The city may clean its streets by city labor employed and 
organized for that purpose, or it may let the job by contract 
to private individuals or firms. The former method is the 
more common and generally the more satisfactory. Private 
street cleaning firms, even though honest and reliable, have 
difficulty in adapting themselves to the peculiar variations 
of the street cleaning problem. It is essentially a governmental 
task. Street cleaning methods must vary with the type of 
pavement, the character of the district, and traffic conditions. 
Machine sweeping and flushing have come into very general 
use, and on smooth pavements these methods of cleaning are 
greatly superior to hand sweeping. Hand sweeping is now 
used only to supplement mechanical methods of cleaning, and 
to clean roughly paved streets where machines are not effective. 

More difficult than the problems of ordinary street cleaning 
is that of snow removal. Most cities in the temperate zone 
have this problem to face, and with the substitution of the auto¬ 
mobile for the horse-drawn vehicle the problem has grown in 
magnitude and difficulty. Snow is a serious impediment to 
motor traffic, and where traffic is heavy it must be removed 
from the streets. The seasonal character of the problem only 
adds to the difficulty of meeting it. It is impossible to main¬ 
tain a snow removal force on an all-year basis, and it is exceed¬ 
ingly difficult to recruit and organize an efficient force in a few 


Street clean¬ 
ing 


Snow 

removal 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Municipal 

construction 


366 

hours’ time. The best results have been obtained by main¬ 
taining a permanent skeleton force around which as a nucleus 
a large force can be built by the employment of casual labor 
as needed. The contract method of snow removal has not been 
notably successful, because the need for prompt action does 
not allow time for the city to make suitable arrangements with 
contractors. The object in snow removal is to get the snow 
off the streets as quickly and cheaply as possible and with the 
least possible interference with traffic. The city can as a rule 
accomplish this by direct labor somewhat more expeditiously 
and effectively than by contract. Many mechanical devices 
for snow removal have been tried, and some of them have been 
reasonably successful. But in severe climates there are invari¬ 
ably snow conditions which will yield to nothing but man-power 
and shovels. 

All municipal construction work, as well as tjie operation 
and maintenance of buildings, sewers, streets, bridges, docks, 
and the like, call for engineering services. These include the 
designing or planning of the various constructional projects 
of the city, the preparation of specifications to be followed by 
contractors or city building employees, and the inspection of 
constructional operations to insure adherence to specifications. 
Every city finds it necessary to have its own engineering de¬ 
partment, although many cities find it advisable to employ 
private consulting engineers for special work. The engineering 
department of the city should be non-politically organized, 
and should be operated so as to attract and retain the best 
engineering talent. Consulting engineers may do conspicu¬ 
ously valuable work for the city, but no consulting engineer 
or engineer retained on a contractual basis can possibly per¬ 
form the vital detailed and routine work which is necessary if 
municipal construction is to have proper engineering control 
and supervision. 

Since a large part of the construction work of the city is done 
by contract rather than by direct city labor, it may be well to 
make some comments on contract problems and procedure. 
Under the direct system the city through its engineering agen¬ 
cies prepares plans for the work and lays down the specifica¬ 
tions under which it is to be carried out. Then by purchasing 
materials and employing the necessary labor force the city does 
its own work. Under the contract system the city merely pre¬ 
pares the plan and the specifications, and then by contract 


LOCAL IMPROVEMENTS 


367 


employs a private building or construction firm to furnish the 
materials and do the work. In order to protect its own inter¬ 
ests under the contract system the city must overlook no im¬ 
portant detail and no vital precaution in the preparation of the 
plans and the formulation of the specifications. More than 
this, it must draw the contract in such comprehensive, clear, and 
appropriate terms as to render it readily enforceable, and must 
then maintain a rigid and continuous process of inspection to 
see that the contractors actually follow the terms of the 
contract. 

It is quite apparent, then, that construction by contract im¬ 
poses a heavy tax upon the government of the city. The labor 
of designing and planning and of drawing up specifications falls 
upon the engineering department of the city. The technical 
demands of this task are enormous and exacting, and the politi¬ 
cal complications are greater than may be imagined. An en¬ 
gineering department contaminated by political forces may de¬ 
liberately “ doctor ” its plans and specifications so as to favor 
contractors who have “ influence ” in the department. And 
engineering departments which endeavor to do their work with¬ 
out fear or favor often find themselves hamstrung and blocked 
by the political machinations of contractors who have sought 
favors and failed to get them. 

The awarding of the contract is also fraught with trouble¬ 
some problems. The laws usually require the letting of the 
contract to the lowest bidder — sometimes to the “ lowest and 
best ” bidder, or to the “ lowest responsible ” bidder. The pub¬ 
lic is so familiar with the stories of scandal and corruption in 
connection with municipal contracts that there is no need to 
labor this point. No sure way has been found to prevent 
bribery, collusion, and other forms of malfeasance in connec¬ 
tion with contract-letting. Altogether aside from the matter 
of fraud and corruption, however, the awarding of contracts is 
a task that imposes a heavy strain upon official judgment and 
discrimination. How to stimulate truly competitive bidding? 
How to be sure that the low bidder is capable of executing the 
contract? How to avoid dangers of “extras” and supple¬ 
mentary contracts? These are some of the questions for which 
practical and workable answers must be found. To insure 
competitive bidding extensive advertising in official publica¬ 
tions, trade journals, and newspapers is resorted to. To dis¬ 
courage irresponsible and unreliable bidders a deposit of five 


The contract 
system vs. 
the direct 
system 


Preparing 
the basis of 
the contract 


Awarding 
the contract 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Inspection 


Would the 
direct system 
be an im¬ 
provement? 


368 

or ten per cent of the total bid is required as an evidence of 
good faith, deposits being returned to unsuccessful bidders 
after the award has been made. To prevent the vitiation of 
the contract by subsidiary arrangements rigid and unequivocal 
specifications are insisted upon. 

Finally there is the problem of inspection. Thorough and 
honest inspection of the work at various stages of progress is 
essential if the city is to have any assurance that the contractor 
is not “ skinning the job.” If the city could employ a suffi¬ 
ciently numerous and adequately qualified inspectional staff, 
and if inspectors employed by the city were indifferent to booze 
and bribes and other temptations sometimes placed in their way 
by unscrupulous contracting firms, inspection would undoubt¬ 
edly suffice to insure faithful compliance with the terms of the 
contract. Unfortunately we have too rarely perceived the im¬ 
portance of inspection and have intrusted it to untrustworthy 
and incompetent persons. 

After considering the many problems and difficulties of con¬ 
tract procedure one may well wonder whether the city would 
not profit greatly by the adoption of the direct system. By 
doing its own constructional work the city could escape the 
necessity of elaborate and over-rigid specifications, could avoid 
all of the complications of drafting, awarding, and enforcing 
contracts, could save the money that goes to the contractor’s 
profit, and could eliminate from municipal politics the vicious 
influence of the unconscionable and corrupt contracting firms. 
But might it not fly from these to other ills as bad or worse? 
What assurance have we that the direct system would be free 
from corruption, extravagance, inefficiency, and pernicious poli¬ 
tics? In the purchase of materials and equipment there may 
be as much chance for graft and corruption as in the letting of 
contracts. The worst sort of favoritism may prevail in the 
recruiting of city labor forces, and disastrous laxity may be 
tolerated in the supervision of construction operations. These 
are points to be pondered in deciding between the contract and 
the direct system. 


Selected References 

A. C. Hanford, Problems in Municipal Government, Chap. XV. 

C. C. Maxey, Readings in Municipal Government, Chap. X. 

W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. II, 
Chaps. XXX, XXXIX. 


LOCAL IMPROVEMENTS 369 

L. D. Upson, The Practice of Municipal Administration, Chaps. 

XXIV, XXV, XXVI, XXVII, XIX. 

J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chaps. XXX, 
XXXIX. 


Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Make a survey of three or four principal streets in your city 
and develop a paving program for those streets which you think 
would meet the needs of those streets over a period of years. 

2. How does the problem of sewage disposal modify the planning 
of sewer systems? 

3. Do you think the business streets of your city are properly 
lighted? Do you think the residential streets are properly lighted? 
What improvements do you think might be made in street lighting 
in your city? 

4. Would there be any difference in the feasibility of the contract 
and direct systems of public works construction as between large 
and small cities? 


CHAPTER XXIV 

MUNICIPAL FINANCE 


The impor¬ 
tance of 
finance 


The funda¬ 
mental oper¬ 
ations of 
municipal 
finance: 


The average mind balks at finance. It is the dull and dismal 
realm of facts and figures, of statistics and accounts, of dry- 
details and mathematical mysteries. Yet finance is without 
a doubt the most fundamental subject in the whole process of 
government, and, if rightly viewed, the most interesting. What 
can be more vital and more fascinating than to see how the re¬ 
lentless, exigent hand of government reaches deep into the 
pockets of its ever grumbling subjects, extracts therefrom the 
pecuniary tribute which political authority is wont to exact 
in return for its sometimes dubious blessings, and transforms 
this exaction into definite political processes? What can be 
more interesting than to pursue the tortuous trail of the dollar 
through shadowy canyons and tangled undergrowth of politics 
and administration? What can be more useful than to master 
the intricacies of that which is the key to the mastery of all 
governmental operations? It is indispensable to intelligent and 
constructive citizenship to know and distinguish between sound 
and unsound financial methods and procedures. 

The fundamental operations of municipal finance, indeed of 
all public finance, are the same as those of personal or house¬ 
hold finance. They consist of three basic processes: (i) 
getting the money, (2) spending the money, and (3) keeping 
account of the various transactions involved in getting and 
spending. Municipal corporations rely mainly upon various 
forms of taxation for their general revenues, and upon utility 
earnings and special assessments for their special revenues. 
In the event of their inability to raise sufficient money by the 
regular means to meet immediate demands they may, like 
any private individual, resort to borrowing. Municipalities 
cannot spend their income with the same informality as a pri¬ 
vate individual or a private corporation, because the interests 
concerned are so numerous and the operations proceed upon 
so vast a scale that extreme precaution is necessary to prevent 

37o 


MUNICIPAL FINANCE 


371 

abuse of power and misuse of funds. Fundamentally, however, 
they spend exactly as a person spends, disbursing their moneys 
in payment for services rendered and in the purchase of com¬ 
modities used in carrying on the operations of city government. 
When it comes to keeping-accounts, municipalities cannot, of 
course, use the same methods as private persons, but they have 
the same underlying purposes. These are to keep a record of 
all financial transactions, which may serve as a basis for analyz¬ 
ing and interpreting the financial condition of the city, as a 
means of controlling financial procedure, and as a guide to the 
formulation of future plans and policies. 

All this sounds simple and elementary, and in principle 
it is just that. But the business of a city is so huge, its affairs 
are so complicated by law and politics, and its social ingredients 
are so mixed that the execution of simple financial principles 
in municipal government is a matter of tremendous intricacy 
and difficulty. We are obliged, therefore, in order to gain a 
working knowledge of municipal finance, to probe into the 
technicalities of municipal getting, spending, and accounting. 

In raising revenue no city enjoys complete freedom. Cities 
derive their powers, including of course their financial powers, 
from the central government, and the latter invariably makes 
use of its authority to curb and control the acquisitive powers 
of the municipalities under its jurisdiction. It is not merely 
that the central government has a solicitous parental interest 
in the affairs of its municipal subdivisions, but that it cannot 
overlook the necessity of protecting its own sources of revenue 
against possible invasion and exhaustion by its prodigal chil¬ 
dren. Universally, therefore, we find cities kept strictly under 
rein in the raising of revenues. In European cities this is accom¬ 
plished in the main by central administrative authorities. 
Certain central officials are invested with authority to review 
the financial proposals and operations of municipalities, and 
to sanction or disapprove as they see fit. The usages vary 
from country to country but not their effects. They all con¬ 
trive to keep the city under the tutelage of the central gov¬ 
ernment. 

In England municipal corporations enjoy considerable lati¬ 
tude in selecting and utilizing their own sources of revenue, 
but are bound to secure the sanction, direct or indirect, of the 
Ministry of Health, the Board of Trade, or some other central 
functionary for practically all their loans and for the great 


I. Getting 
the money 


Restrictions 
on municipal 
freedom in 
raising 
revenues 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Central con¬ 
trol of munici¬ 
pal revenue 
in Europe 


372 

bulk of their undertakings and activities. This gives the central 
government a most effective means both of checking municipal 
expenditures and of determining the sources of municipal in¬ 
come. The discretion of the central authorities is generally 
broad enough and the inhibitive force of their veto great enough 
to shape the revenue policies of municipalities much as they 
will. French cities have always been tied fast to the apron 
strings of the central regime at Paris. Through the prefect, 
potent proconsul of the central bureaucracy, a close tab is kept 
on the financial operations of all cities in each department. 
The prefect passes upon all municipal budgets, strikes out or 
inserts items, and may under some circumstances impose taxes 
without the consent of the communal authorities. Specific 
statutory limitations are few, as the vast authority of the pre¬ 
fect and his superiors renders them unnecessary. Each mu¬ 
nicipality in France enjoys such powers of raising revenue as 
may be accorded to it by the general code, applied by the 
sound discretion of the central authorities. German cities 
have always had certain taxes assigned to them by general 
law and presumably have had a certain amount of autonomy 
for their utilization; but the hand of central administrative 
authority has lain almost as heavily upon the German city 
as upon the French. The new municipal code gives no sub¬ 
stantial promise of greater financial autonomy. “ The framers 
of the proposed new code,” says Professor Munro, “ did not see 
their way clear to include taxation among autonomous affairs. 
Municipal finance is made dependent on the exigencies of fed¬ 
eral and state finance. There seemed to be no alternative, be¬ 
cause the heavy burdens laid upon the Reich by the Treaty 
of Versailles and by the Dawes Plan make it essential that all 
public resources, of whatever sort, shall be rigidly controlled 
and conserved. It would be disastrous to give the local gov¬ 
ernments a free hand in the raising and spending of money, 
thus possibly impairing the sources which the Reich may draw 
upon for the settlement of its heavy obligations. Local auton¬ 
omy in matters of finance has therefore been considerably 
limited.” 1 

Central control of municipal revenues is accomplished in 
the United States by specific statutory or constitutional limita¬ 
tions upon the taxing or the debt-incurring powers of cities, 
and sometimes upon both. Tax limitations upon American 
1 Munro, The Government of European Cities, p. 359. 


MUNICIPAL FINANCE 


373 

cities restrict both the sources and the amounts of municipal 
taxation. By action of the state legislature, if not by constitu¬ 
tional inhibition, most of the states of the American Union deny 
cities certain sources of taxation, notably corporation, fran¬ 
chise, excise, and income taxes. The general tax upon real and 
personal property and various license taxes supply the bulk 
of the revenues of the average American municipality, and in 
many instances these sources of revenue must be shared with 
the state and county governments. Not only are the cities 
of the United States restricted as to the source of their revenues, 
but in about five-sixths of the states they are definitely limited 
as to the amounts of revenue to be derived from sources avail¬ 
able to them. These limitations are imposed by statute and 
are of two principal types: (i) limitations which forbid the 
city to levy taxes in excess of a stated percentage of the assessed 
valuation of property within the city, and (2) limitations which 
forbid the city to levy taxes in excess of a stated percentage of 
the levy of the year immediately preceding. 

Limitations of the first type are very popular, and obtain in 
something more than half of our states. Sometimes they are 
embodied in the state constitution, but more often perhaps take 
the form either of sweeping statutory prescriptions applicable 
to municipalities generally or of special laws applicable only 
to certain designated cities. Limitations of the second type 
are confined to a small number of states, and are generally ap¬ 
plied by constitutional prohibition. The taxing power of the 
city under both types is thus seen to be circumscribed by an 
inflexible and specific mathematical restriction which cannot 
be relaxed or modified in any way except by constitutional 
amendment or action by the state legislature. Under the first 
plan the city may not levy more than, say, one, two, or three 
per cent of the amount of its assessed valuation, and there is 
no prefect, local government board, or other central functionary 
to give relief from this rule. Under the second plan of restric¬ 
tion the city may not levy to exceed an increase of one, two, 
three, or some other per cent of the levy of the preceding year 
no matter how exceptional or extraordinary that may have 
been. 

The borrowing power of American cities is likewise curbed 
by constitutional and statutory limitations. Most of the states 
have incorporated in their constitutions provisions, reminiscent 
of the heyday of wildcat finance, forbidding municipalities to 


Municipal 
tax limita¬ 
tions in the 
United 
States 


Municipal 
debt limita¬ 
tions in the 
United 
States 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The effects 
of tax and 
debt limita¬ 
tions 


374 

lend their credit to private enterprises; and more than half of 
the states have established a percentage limitation applied to 
assessed valuation upon the total indebtedness which may be 
incurred. Several of the states, not having such fixed debt lim¬ 
its, prohibit cities from incurring in any year debts in excess of 
the income and revenue for that year. There is a certain degree 
of flexibility in the operation of debt limitation laws, for it is 
a common rule that loans for revenue-producing enterprises 
such as waterworks and electric light plants are not included in 
the computation of the city’s indebtedness. Moneys in sinking 
funds are also deducted from the gross indebtedness in order to 
arrive at the net indebtedness to which the limitations apply. 
There is also provision in many cases for referendum to the 
people on the question of exceeding the debt limits, and if a 
stated majority vote in the affirmative, debt limit is set aside 
as to that particular loan. 

American tax and debt limitations have undoubtedly estab¬ 
lished the supremacy of the state in financial matters, but 
whether they have tended to promote prudent, economical, and 
honest municipal financing is a question that admits of much 
debate. Very seldom are the experiences of different commu¬ 
nities and states strictly or fairly comparable, and very rarely 
are there instances where the effects of financial limitations 
can be isolated and studied independently of all other factors 
contributing to results achieved in municipal finance. The 
conclusions set forth hereafter are to be taken, therefore, not 
as unqualified and final generalizations, but rather as tentative 
observations and deductions following as closely as possible 
the general drift of scientific opinion. 

One of the most emphatically avowed purposes of municipal 
tax limitations is the promotion of economy in municipal gov¬ 
ernment, and it is certainly a most plausible assumption that 
the restriction of the city’s income would force it to careful 
husbandry and utilization of its resources. But such has not 
been the universal experience, and in many cases it appears 
that tax limitations have acted as an incentive to extravagance. 
A father placing his son at college upon a fixed allowance may 
be assured that the youth will not spend in excess of the sum 
given, but he may be equally sure that the boy will invariably 
spend the entire allowance. If the allowance is inadequate, 
the student may be driven to unwise economy; if it is too gen¬ 
erous, he will be tempted to unwise and extravagant spending. 


MUNICIPAL FINANCE 


375 

The same considerations apply to a city. The parental allow¬ 
ance of the state invites and encourages the city to levy taxes 
up to the fixed limit whether needed or not, because of a fear, 
in the first place, that the allowance will be reduced if not regu¬ 
larly spent in full, and because of a feeling, in the second place, 
that the fixing of a limit is a sanction of that amount as a 
proper normal outlay. On the other hand, if the fixed allow¬ 
ance should be insufficient to care for the proper and legitimate 
operating expenses of city government, the city is driven to 
imprudent borrowing, to evasions and subterfuges, or to the 
curtailment of important and necessary public services. 

A careful study conducted by a special joint committee of 
the New York legislature in 1920 compared the experience over 
a period of years of a group of cities under tax limitations with 
another group of municipalities not so restricted. Strange as 
it may seem, the record of the unlimited cities was consistently 
better as to both operating expenses and indebtedness. Similar 
investigations in other parts of the country have resulted in 
findings of much the same character. Economy is not born of 
prohibitions and restrictions, but of faithful adherence to sound 
procedure and honest purposes, and those basic requisites, it 
appears, are more likely to hold sway in cities where the respon¬ 
sibility for financial results rests directly and wholly upon the 
people of the locality and their chosen representatives than in 
cities where the state undertakes to substitute its judgment for 
that of the local authorities. 

During periods of rising prices and shrinking money values, 
such as we have experienced since 1914, tax limitations have 
brought acute distress to many municipalities. They have 
made it difficult, if not wholly impossible, to increase the com¬ 
pensation of policemen, firemen, and other municipal employees, 
to provide much-needed improvements and services, and in 
general to meet any but the most imperative obligations. Un¬ 
able to get the limitations lifted or to get around them success¬ 
fully, many cities have been obliged to resort to subterfuges 
utterly incompatible with sound finance and good management. 
Borrowing for current purposes, borrowing from sinking funds, 
multiplying floating debts, juggling accounts, raising age limits 
in police and fire departments so as to employ or retain older 
and cheaper men, curtailing services — these are samples of the 
sort of performance that has become common in municipalities 
under unduly severe and inelastic tax limitations. 


Often an 
incentive to 
extravagance 


Tax limita¬ 
tions cause 
trouble in 
periods of 
inflation and 
deflation. 


Debt limita¬ 
tions have 
some salu¬ 
tary effects. 


Some ques¬ 
tionable 
effects of 
debt limits 


3?6 URBAN DEMOCRACY 

Debt limitations have not on the whole been as perverse in 
their consequences as tax limitations. That reckless and ex¬ 
cessive borrowing has been checked by the barrier interposed 
by the constitutional or statutory limitations upon municipal 
indebtedness is generally conceded to be true. It would often 
be easy for city councils to plunge into an orgy of spending 1 
borrowing were not restricted. The effect of a tax levy is im¬ 
mediate, but a loan postpones the plucking of the tax-payer 
and lulls him into a state of comfortable indifference. Financ¬ 
ing by borrowing, until the distant day of reckoning arrives, 
seems almost like getting without spending. Debt limitations 
have had a most salutary effect in counteracting the tendency 
to shift the burdens of taxation from the present to the future. 

Over against this undoubted benefit of municipal debt limi¬ 
tations must be set certain facts of a more questionable charac¬ 
ter. It appears to be true that debt limitations in some cases 
have operated to restrain cities from embarking upon programs 
of municipal ownership. Whether this be a virtue or not, de¬ 
pends upon the wisdom of municipal ownership. The practical 
and objective student of municipal affairs knows, however 
that the wisdom of the city’s policy with regard to municipal 
ownership is not a matter to be determined by dogmatic gen¬ 
eralizations but by the special and peculiar facts of each indi¬ 
vidual case. It is unfortunate and regrettable if fixed debt 
limits stand in the way of the city’s entering upon a program 
of municipal ownership that is sound and necessary for the 
welfare of the community, but commendable if the debt limit 
deters the city from engaging in municipal ownership unwisely 
and unnecessarily. The trouble is that debt limits operate 
arbitrarily and inflexibly, without sifting the good from the 
bad objects of indebtedness. Debt limitation laws not un¬ 
commonly contain exemptions favorable to municipal water¬ 
works, and sometimes to one or two other specified utilities; 
but these exceptions are too few to allow the city a free hand in 
the shaping of its utility policies. Furthermore, it is a general 
rule that indebtedness incurred for the acquisition of utilities 
by purchase is to be included in the computation of aggregate 
indebtedness. Low debt limits will, therefore, have the effect 
of curtailing the city’s credit to a degree that inhibits the 
launching of an extensive public ownership program. . Such 
restrictions naturally are not unwelcome to private utility in¬ 
terests. 


MUNICIPAL FINANCE 


377 

Another dubious thing about debt limits is their tendency to 
discourage pay-as-you-go financing where such a policy is pos¬ 
sible and preferable to borrowing. Although it is true, as stated 
above, that debt limitations have generally had the effect of 
preventing reckless borrowing, they have also afforded an 
incentive and a justification for borrowing up to the limit 
fixed, and thus have tempted cities to borrow whenever they 
have had a margin to spare within the limit. Such a practice 
overlooks the obvious economies of the pay-as-you-go policy, 
which is a practical expedient in a far greater number of cases 
thap the average politician is willing to admit. 

The results of both tax limits and debt limits have proved 
to be a bit disappointing in regard to the assessment of property. 
Theoretically it would seem certain that the restriction of tax¬ 
ing and borrowing to fixed percentages of the assessed valua¬ 
tion of property would result in boosting assessments to a 
point approximating the real value of the property in order 
to realize the most extensive revenues and borrowings possible. 
But such has not been the case. In the first place, the assess¬ 
ing officials very frequently are county or state officials, and 
not wholly amenable to the municipal government. In the 
second place, the political wrath of the tax-paying public is a 
potent threat which suffices usually to keep valuations down 
despite the constant pressure for increased revenues and bor¬ 
rowing capacity. 

In examining the financial experience of American municipal¬ 
ities it is interesting to note a certain degree of correlation 
between tax and debt limitations. The coexistence of tax and 
debt limitations results generally in the full exploitation of both 
by cities striving to adjust their financial processes to double 
circumscription. The tax limits create a temptation and an 
incentive for borrowing, and then as the city approaches its 
debt limit it is forced increasingly to turn to taxation, with 
the result that it quickly approaches its tax limit also. The 
existence of tax limits with no debt limits or with debt limits 
either liberal or easily over-ridden by popular referendum in¬ 
variably produces an unjustifiable and dangerous inflation of 
the city’s indebtedness unless the tax limits are exceptionally 
generous. When the tax limits are low, the city resorts to bor¬ 
rowing at every convenient opportunity in order to avoid the ex¬ 
haustion of its tax revenues. The interest and retirement 
charges on this indebtedness must be taken care of by the tax 


Effects of 
tax and debt 
limits upon 
assessment 
of property 


Certain cor¬ 
relations be¬ 
tween tax 
and debt 
limits 


378 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Sources of 
municipal 
income 


revenues, but the effect of this is not noticed at first. After a 
few years, however, the indebtedness mounts to such a point 
that the necessary debt charges consume a large and increasing 
portion of the city’s available tax revenues. Once this vicious 
circle is set in motion there is no way of arresting its effects 
except through a general readjustment of the city’s financial 
powers, for the more the city borrows the more it is obliged 
to borrow in order to keep within its tax limits. In 1922 the 
Ohio Institute of Public Efficiency published a report showing 
that at that time forty-eight cities in Ohio were obliged to 
devote more than half of their yearly incomes to debt charges, 
and that in eight of these cities more than 70 per cent and 
in four of them more than 80 per cent of the annual tax rev¬ 
enues were so encumbered. This unhappy condition was said 
to be a consequence of the excessive borrowings to which Ohio 
cities had been driven by the one per cent tax limitation law 
of that state. 

American and European cities present an interesting con¬ 
trast in respect to the sources of their annual revenues. 
American cities on the average derive more than two-thirds 
of their annual income from direct taxes upon real and personal 
property, whereas European cities seldom obtain more than 
one-third of their revenues from this source and rely mainly 
upon the earnings of municipally owned utilities and various 
indirect taxes for the bulk of their income. Municipal owner¬ 
ship in the United States proceeds upon the theory that mu¬ 
nicipally owned utilities should be operated primarily for the 
benefit of the consumer rather than the taxpayer, and conse¬ 
quently that no earnings should be taken above the amount 
necessary for the operation and financing of the utility itself. 
In Europe, on the contrary, it is considered both desirable and 
proper that municipal utilities should not only pay their own 
way but also turn in a profit to the city treasury. Indirect 
taxes in the United States have been largely appropriated 
by the national and state governments, whereas in Europe 
many productive forms of indirect taxation are available to 
municipalities. 

Aside from the general property tax the most important 
sources of revenue for American cities are public utility earn¬ 
ings (about 10 per cent of the total on the average), license 
(business or occupational) taxes, sharings of state administered 
taxes, subventions, poll taxes, departmental earnings from 


MUNICIPAL FINANCE 


379 


sales and services, charges for highway privileges, and income 
from investments. By contrast with this list of revenue 
sources we find that European cities in addition to public 
utility earnings, resort to the habitation or occupation tax 
(chiefly in Great Britain), the income tax (chiefly in Ger¬ 
many), sales or net earnings taxes upon business and industry, 
liquor taxes, commodity taxes upon such objects as foodstuffs, 
fuel, and building materials, privilege taxes upon signs, posters, 
street-stands, and the like, and taxes upon privately owned 
utilities. 

It is no easy matter to work out and maintain a satisfactory 
system of municipal revenues. The first problem is the separa¬ 
tion of central and local revenues. Theoretically it would be 
better if the sources of municipal and central revenues could 
be kept entirely separate and distinct, for when one invades the 
sphere of the other there is always difficulty in working out a 
satisfactory basis of division, and furthermore when both draw 
revenues from one source the burden of taxation is likely to 
fall with undue severity upon a single object of taxation. To 
avoid these difficulties numerous attempts have been made in 
both Europe and the United States to effect a separation of 
central and local revenues. The results of these experiments 
afford a basis for the following conclusions: (i) that absolute 
and complete separation is unattainable, first, because the cen¬ 
tral government must retain a certain degree of control over 
local taxation in order to protect its own revenues, and, sec¬ 
ondly, because there are few sources of revenue which, taken 
alone, would be entirely adequate for either the central or the 
local governments; (2) that partial separation making possible 
a larger degree of local freedom in adjusting the revenue sys¬ 
tem of the city to the economic character of the community is 
both feasible and highly desirable. 

Another difficult problem in working out a system of mu¬ 
nicipal revenues is administration. Certain taxes cannot, from 
their very nature, be efficiently administered by municipal ma¬ 
chinery alone. This is especially true of taxes upon incomes, 
inheritances, mortgages, franchises, corporations, businesses, 
and occupations. It is also true of certain excise taxes, and 
to a degree at least of-direct taxes upon real and personal prop¬ 
erty. Consequently there has developed during the last few 
years a pronounced movement in the direction of centralization 
of tax administration or central supervision and review of local 


Sound essen¬ 
tials of a 
municipal 
revenue sys¬ 
tem: 


1. Separa¬ 
tion of cen¬ 
tral and local 
revenues 


2. Adminis¬ 
trative ma¬ 
chinery 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


3. Elastic 
sources of 
income 


380 

tax administration. Machinery for tax administration in the 
United States is in an increasing number of cases wholly or 
partially removed from municipal control, and the same tend¬ 
ency is manifest in Europe. This of course adds to the diffi¬ 
culty of segregating and separating central and local revenue 
sources. 

During the past two or three decades, and especially since 
the rapid rise of price levels incident to the Great War, munici¬ 
palities all over the world have been hard pressed to find rev¬ 
enues adequate to their needs. The great industrial develop¬ 
ments and the consequent concentration of population in urban 
centers have called for a prodigious expansion of municipal 
services and improvements. Simultaneously the pecuniary bur¬ 
dens of central government have been kited to unprecedented 
levels through the necessity of paying for the war. This stu¬ 
pendous increase of central taxation has resulted in a demand 
for reductions in local taxation at the same time that the de¬ 
mand for increased service from local government has been on 
the rise. Most cities, therefore, have been driven to explore 
and exploit many hitherto neglected sources of income. Among 
these are taxes on signs and billboards, on street-railway ad¬ 
vertising, on street encroachments, on the sale of cigarettes and 
other commodities of the luxury class, and increased earnings 
from departmental services. 

For the present, however, all of these newer sources of in¬ 
come must be regarded as supplementary rather than major. 
The average city, whether the return is adequate or not, must 
continue to look to the long-established sources of revenue for 
the principal portion of its income. Few, if any, of the others 
are capable of yielding a large income to the city because the 
object of the tax or the charge, as the case may be, is of a na¬ 
ture that cannot survive a heavy contribution to the public 
treasury. More careful levy and collection of present revenues, 
better budgeting and accounting, and more rigid control over 
expenditures will do as much to solve the city’s revenue prob¬ 
lem as the discovery of virgin and unexploited sources of rev¬ 
enue. About the only other source of relief from the present 
tax dilemma is to be found in the increased resort of munici¬ 
palities to special assessments. 

Special assessments are so-called because they are charges 
levied not against all taxable property but only against selected 
properties which are commonly grouped together in a special 


MUNICIPAL FINANCE 


381 


district created for the purpose of making the levy. Special 
assessments are levied upon a parcel or groups of parcels of 
property upon the theory that the property owes a special ob¬ 
ligation to the public or derives a special benefit from some 
public improvement constructed in its vicinity. Special levies 
for the purpose of discharging obligations, as for example to 
cover the cost of abating nuisances or of underwriting the cost 
of appurtenances to private property, need not be considered 
in dealing with the problem of revenues, for they are obviously 
designed only to meet exceptional and unusual situations. 
But special levies on the theory of benefit do constitute a highly 
elastic and important source of revenue. When a sewer is con¬ 
structed in a certain district, a street is paved, a park is laid 
out, or any other conspicuous improvement is carried through, 
it is evident that private property in the vicinage of the im¬ 
provement is distinctly benefited, and this benefit is usually 
reflected in the sale value of the property. In principle, there¬ 
fore, it is quite proper for the city to levy a charge upon prop¬ 
erty so benefited that is not levied upon other property. Such 
a levy relieves non-benefited property of an unfair burden and 
releases for other purposes general tax revenues which would 
have been consumed in making the improvement. But the use 
of special assessments has not been confined to the financing of 
public improvements. American cities in increasing numbers 
are resorting to this means to defray current expenses for such 
purposes as street cleaning, sprinkling and oiling of streets, 
snow removing, planting and caring for shade trees, and collect¬ 
ing and disposing of municipal wastes. Plainly, then, special 
assessments, if widely used, afford a generous means of ampli¬ 
fying the revenue resources of the city, for they are not counted 
in computing tax and debt limits. 

The freedom of the city to employ the special assessment 
mode of financing depends upon the provisions of the general 
municipal law. There is no substantial uniformity among the 
general laws regulating special assessments. Some permit spe¬ 
cial assessments for specified purposes only; others give the 
city considerable latitude in determining the purposes for which 
such assessments may be used. Some forbid the use of special 
assessments for current expenses; others impose no such re¬ 
striction. Some allow special assessments to cover costs only; 
others provide for assessment in proportion to benefit. In the 
application of these different principles, and in determining 


4. Special 
assessments 
as supple¬ 
mentary- 
sources of 
income 


Legal re¬ 
strictions 
with regard 
to special 
assessments 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Procedure in 
special as¬ 
sessments 


Municipal 

borrowing 


382 

the spread of the assessment upon the various parcels of prop¬ 
erty to be included in the assessment district or area, many 
technical problems arise which are of great importance but are 
of interest primarily to the specialist. How to decide what 
should be included in costs, how to measure benefits, and how 
to apportion benefits and costs among the parcels of property 
to be assessed are not problems for lay judgment to settle. 

Formerly it was left to the abutting property owners to 
initiate improvement projects to be financed by special assess¬ 
ments, the initiative taking the form of a petition signed by 
a majority of the property owners affected. Leaving the matter 
thus to local option militated against a well-articulated and 
balanced plan of public improvements. In order to avoid this 
result the later laws on the subject generally provide for the 
initiation of a special assessment by the city council, subject 
to a notice of intention served upon all interested parties, and 
followed by a public hearing. Sometimes the power to veto 
any such proposal is left in the hands of the affected property 
owners to be effected by means of a petition signed by fifty 
per cent or more of the property owners. The procedure after 
the project is authorized varies in the different jurisdictions. 
Plans are prepared by the engineering department of the city, 
contracts are let, and the work proceeds. The levies are some¬ 
times made in part while the work proceeds, but usually not 
until it is finished. The city usually makes the collections, 
often distributed over a term of years, but when the assessment 
covers costs only, this is sometimes left to the contractor. 

Cities, like individuals, have frequent occasion to meet tem¬ 
porary income needs by borrowing. Cash-and-carry financing 
is an ideal to which it is proper to aspire, but it is hard to real¬ 
ize in actual practice. Cities often find themselves obliged 
to borrow in anticipation of income which has accrued but 
is not yet collected or collectible. Likewise they must some¬ 
times borrow in order to finance emergencies caused by floods, 
conflagrations, storms, epidemics, and the like. Such things 
cannot be foreseen and provided for in the regular budget, 
and yet they generally have to be financed as they arise. The 
great bulk of municipal borrowing, however, is for neither of 
the foregoing purposes, but to finance permanent public im¬ 
provements. Many authorities on municipal finance contend 
that in the long run cities would save money by paying each 
year’s bills as they arise. Mathematically it can be demon- 


MUNICIPAL FINANCE 383 

strated that this is true, but weighty considerations argue 
against it. In the first place, such a practice would be almost 
certain to result in a sharply and widely fluctuating tax rate, 
which would have a deleterious effect upon property values. 
In -the second place, it would result in an inequitable distribu¬ 
tion of tax burdens over successive generations of owners and 
taxpayers. In the third place, it has a tendency to check the 
development of the city because taxpayers exert their influence 
to prevent improvements which tend to produce immediate and 
excessive increases in tax rates. 

Municipal borrowing is of two general kinds, short term and 
long term borrowing. Short term borrowing is for temporary 
transfers from special funds, warrants issued in excess of 
available cash, and non-payment of bills. It is an insidious 
danger unless surrounded by ample safeguards. Too often the 
ease of short term borrowing and the fact that such debts are 
not generally included in the figuring of indebtedness under 
debt limitation laws, tempt the city council into piling up a 
large floating debt through short term loans. Eventually the 
city finds itself unable to meet these obligations as they fall 
due and at the same time it pays higher rates of interest than 
would be necessary for long term loans. The next move, if 
possible, is to fund the floating debt and place it on a long-term 
basis. This relieves the situation, but generally commits the 
city to the unsound policy of paying for dead horses, spending 
its money to retire debts for objects long past. Strict charter 
and statutory limitations or rigid central administrative control 
have been employed to prevent such abuses in short term 
borrowing. 

Long term borrowing is accomplished by the sale of bonds, 
and the indebtedness thus incurred is called the bonded or 
funded debt of the city, the latter term being used when the 
bonds are to be retired by means of sinking funds. Long 
term bonds are of three principal types: term bonds, callable 
term bonds, and serial bonds. The distinguishing feature 
of term bonds is that every bond in the entire issue matures at 
the same fixed time from the date of issue. The usual method of 
retiring such bonds is by the building up of sinking funds to pay 
off the whole issue at maturity. Callable term bonds differ from 
term bonds in that all or part of the issue may at the option of 
the city be called in and retired before the fixed date of maturity 
arrives. Such bonds are commonly issued to run for a definite 


Short and 
long term 
borrowing 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


384 


Considera¬ 
tions in de¬ 
termining 
bonding 
policy 


Special ad¬ 
vantages of 
serial bonds 


period, say twenty years, but are callable at the end of shorter 
periods, as five, ten, or fifteen years. The advantage of the 
callable bond over the regular term bond is that it affords the 
city an opportunity, if its financial condition permits, to cut 
down its debt charges by retiring its bonds before the full 
length of their initial term has run. Serial bonds, instead of 
maturing at a single fixed date from the time of issue, mature 
in installments, the installments falling due at fixed intervals 
after the date of issue. 

In determining which method of bonding to employ, the city 
must be governed by the following considerations: (1) the in¬ 
terest costs, (2) the administrative difficulties, and (3) the 
marketability of the various types of bonds. In the aggregate, 
interest costs are always greater when straight term bonds are 
used, because the city pays interest upon the whole debt for 
the entire term of the issue. This, however, may be offset by 
the interest earned upon sinking funds, so that the net cost of 
interest is far below the aggregate cost. But the management 
of sinking funds involves serious administrative difficulties. 
Moneys appropriated to sinking funds must be safely and pru¬ 
dently invested, must be carefully accounted for, and must be 
amply safeguarded. No little administrative machinery and no 
small amount of official red tape are essential to the realization 
of these objects, and there are unavoidable hazards owing to 
mistakes in judgment or unforeseeable contingencies in the 
financial world no matter how honest and careful the sinking 
fund administration may be. It must be remembered also that 
municipal bonds are a commodity which the city must sell on 
the open market in competition with other securities, and that 
in order to realize low discount and interest rates the city must 
offer bonds of the type making the strongest appeal to the in¬ 
vesting public. Styles and tastes in investments change much 
as they do in other human interests, and the financial officers 
of the city should study the market carefully before adopting 
a bonding policy. 

Contemporary opinion among authorities on municipal 
finance tends to favor the serial type of bond over all others. 
Serial bonds save interest, because the interest bill is reduced 
every time an installment of bonds is retired. The heaviest 
interest charges fall in the early years of the issue, and like¬ 
wise in the early years of the improvement for which the loan 
was floated. As the years go on and depreciation sets in, the 


MUNICIPAL FINANCE 


385 

interest charges progressively fall as the worth of the improve¬ 
ment declines. Serial bonds dispense with the necessity of 
sinking funds and the complications and hazards involved in 
their administration. It is also claimed that serial bonds en¬ 
able the city to market its bond offerings most advantageously. 
It can appeal to both the small and the large investor, to the 
short term and the long term investor, and can offer greater 
security as to both principal and interest. The validity of some 
of these alleged points of advantage may be open to doubt, at 
least on mathematical grounds, but the practical superiority of 
serial bonds from the standpoint of administration is no longer 
subject to challenge. 

The subject of municipal borrowing should not be dismissed 
without a few words on the subject of sinking funds. The uni¬ 
versal practice of municipalities until the advent of the serial 
bond during the past few years has been to retire their bonded 
indebtedness by means of sinking funds. In theory and prin¬ 
ciple nothing is simpler and sounder than the sinking fund 
method of retirement. The city borrows, let us say, $500,000 
to be repaid at the end of thirty years. Actuarial computations 
are then made to ascertain the annual payments accumulated 
on a compound interest basis which would be necessary to 
equal $500,000 in thirty years’ time. The city then establishes 
a sinking fund for this particular bond issue, provides for the 
necessary annual payments, and undertakes to invest them and 
the interest earned by them so as to realize the necessary $500,- 
000 at the maturity of the bond issue. 

There is nothing wrong with this system of retiring munici¬ 
pal indebtedness save that it seldom works strictly according 
to theory. Corrupt and dishonest city administrations have 
been known to rifle the sinking funds by investment of the 
funds in worthless or fraudulent securities. Honest and well- 
intentioned city administrations have been known to under¬ 
mine the sinking funds through financial incompetence in mak¬ 
ing and shifting investments. Sincere and well-meaning city 
administrations, in times of emergency or seeming emergency, 
have been known to deplete the sinking funds by transfer of 
sinking fund moneys to other uses in excess of the city’s prob¬ 
able or possible ability to replenish the sinking funds. Finan¬ 
cial exigencies unpredictable over a long period of years, such 
as falling rates of interest or radical shrinkages in the market 
values of investment securities, have been known to wreck the 


Sinking 

funds 


Abuses con¬ 
nected with 
sinking 
funds 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


II. Spending 
the money 


Appropria¬ 
tion pro¬ 
cedure 


386 

most careful and honest sinking fund calculations and result in 
sinking fund shortages at the maturity of the bond issue. It is 
for reasons such as these that modern authorities on municipal 
finance advise extreme caution and elaborate safeguards in the 
use of sinking funds, and prefer as a rule the serial bond method 
of financing, which eliminates the necessity of sinking funds. 

All the processes and problems considered thus far have to 
do with the getting of money for the use of the city. We now 
turn to the opposite phase of municipal finance, namely, spend¬ 
ing. Municipal spending involves four basic processes — ap¬ 
propriating, purchasing, administering payrolls, and disbursing. 

In order to protect the treasury of the city against irrespon¬ 
sible and reckless spending it is a universal requirement, im¬ 
posed either by charter or statute, that no moneys may be 
drawn from the treasury except in pursuance of a formal act 
of the legislative body. Such acts, because they set aside, 
authorize, and order the spending of specified amounts of money 
for certain designated objects, are known as appropriations. 
City charters and municipal codes very generally regulate ap¬ 
propriation procedure by restrictions designed to secure pub¬ 
licity and careful deliberation. It is often forbidden to pass an 
appropriation measure in the same meeting of the council in 
which it is introduced, the proposal being required to lie over 
for a week or longer. It is often required that the measure shall 
be read a certain number of times, or be printed and placed on 
the desks of the members before its passage, and that a roll- 
call vote be taken and the yeas and nays recorded. Limitations 
are sometimes imposed upon the freedom of individual mem¬ 
bers to introduce appropriation measures, and time limits, fix¬ 
ing a final date for the introduction of appropriation measures, 
are also resorted to. Most cities nowadays have adopted some 
form of the executive budget system, the essence of which is 
the setting up of appropriation procedure which throws the ini¬ 
tiative in all matters of spending upon the chief executive and 
strictly limits the actions of the legislative body. The execu¬ 
tive budget system will be discussed later. 

All appropriations have the effect of authorizing the spending 
of money either for purchasing things for the use of the city or 
paying municipal officials and employees to render services to 
the city. Cities purchase innumerable things — land, build¬ 
ings, supplies, materials, equipment, contract services, insur¬ 
ance, the use of money. Certain officials are empowered to act 


MUNICIPAL FINANCE 387 

for the city in negotiating and carrying through the transac¬ 
tions which result in these purchases. In the case of purchas¬ 
ing the use of money (borrowing), the council authorizes and 
the director or commissioner of finance carries out the transac¬ 
tion. If it is done by sale of bonds, the necessary steps are 
strictly regulated by law. If it is a temporary loan from a 
bank, the procedure may be less formal. In the buying of 
insurance the procedure is frequently for the council to author¬ 
ize the head of the department of finance or other officials to 
place the policies and then appropriate the sums necessary to 
meet the premium charges. Many cities, however, require com¬ 
petitive bidding for insurance contracts, and let to the lowest 
bidder. Other contract services, such as telephone, electric 
light, and transportation, are handled in much the same way as 
insurance. The purchase of land is usually carried through by 
special act of the city council, although the preliminary nego¬ 
tiations may be conducted by one or more of the executive 
departments. 

The purchase of supplies, materials, and equipment has been 
one of the most troublesome problems in the entire range of 
municipal administration. Land purchases occur rarely, and 
when they do come they are of sufficient importance to demand 
and obtain the attention of the entire city council and the lead¬ 
ing executive officials of the city. Much the same is true of 
loans, insurance, and the major contract services generally. 
But supplies, materials, and equipment are daily requirements 
of every office, institution, and agency of the city government 
in quantities ranging perhaps from a few lead pencils to many 
tons of coal v Nearly every commodity that the human mind 
can imagine some department of the city government has to 
use. It used to be the common practice to allow each adminis¬ 
trative unit to do its own purchasing,-placing at its disposal a 
sum of money estimated to be sufficient for its needs. Each 
department, division, agency, and institution thus went ahead 
and bought when and what it saw fit. It pitted its judgment, 
generally amateur judgment, against the expert knowledge of 
the salesman. It paid high prices for small quantities of goods 
because it was not buying enough to get the benefit of wholesale 
prices and trade discounts. It bought without reference to 
market trends, trade conditions, or business usages. It fre¬ 
quently was guilty of the blunder of overbuying and under¬ 
buying. It failed very often to get the benefit of competitive 


Municipal 

purchasing 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Importance 
of central 
purchasing 


388 

bidding. And, sad to relate, many times it has been discovered 
that one or more of the employees engaged in such indiscrimi¬ 
nate buying was guilty of corrupt collusion with salesmen to 
defraud the city. 

The remedy for these conditions has been found in the in¬ 
troduction of central purchasing. Under this system a central 
purchasing bureau or department is established with authority 
to do the purchasing for all departments and agencies of the 
city government. This bureau is staffed by experts who know 
market conditions, understand commodity fluctuations, and 
make a business of buying and nothing else. Each adminis¬ 
trative unit submits to the purchasing bureau estimates of its 
anticipated annual needs in the way of supplies, materials, and 
equipment, and the purchasing bureau then does its buying 
with reference to the needs of the city government as a whole. 
Non-perishable commodities are purchased on the most favor¬ 
able market and stored until needed, and perishable commodi¬ 
ties are purchased as currently as required. Each consuming 
department applies to the purchasing department by requisition 
for the supplies, materials, and equipment called for in its 
budget. 

The advantages of central purchasing may be enumerated 
as follows: 

1. It centralizes and unifies responsibility for all purchasing 
operations, and thus eliminates all duplication of purchasing 
personnel. 

2. It results in having all purchases made by experts who 
are familiar by training and experience with commodity mar¬ 
kets and trade usages, and who are better able to huy economi¬ 
cally and advantageously than inexpert officials whose chief 
attention must be given to other matters. 

3. It makes possible the standardization of commodities used 
by the city government in its various divisions, and thus in¬ 
sures the purchase of goods of more uniform and better quality. 

4. It enables the city to buy in large quantities and thus get 
the benefit of low prices and trade discounts. 

5. It enables the city to get the benefit of real competitive 
bidding. 

6. It makes possible the buying of the quantities of goods 
required by the city government on the basis of the consump¬ 
tion of all departments, and thus reduces the danger of over¬ 
buying or underbuying. 


MUNICIPAL FINANCE 389 

7. It cuts down the chances for graft and venality in pur¬ 
chasing. 

8. It facilitates accurate accounting for all moneys spent for 
supplies, materials, and equipment. 

Approximately two-thirds of the annual expenditures of the 
average city go for the salaries and wages of municipal em¬ 
ployees. Obviously, then, unless there is some appropriate and 
effective means of checking and controlling disbursements on 
account of salaries and wages, grave abuses may occur through 
padding the payrolls with fictitious names, through falsifying 
the working time, and through irregularities in accounting. To 
avoid these consequences several expedients may be used. 
First there must be an official payroll, checked by the civil 
service commission or other employing authority, and contain¬ 
ing only the names of persons properly and legally inducted 
into the service of the city. As evidence of such induction 
there should, first, be a document on record in the office of the 
city comptroller for every employee whose employment has 
the proper legal sanction, such document to be prepared by the 
employing office and checked independently by the comptroller 
and the civil service commission. Second, there must be a time 
report prepared and verified by the employing department 
showing the time on duty of each employee on the payroll for 
the period for which payment is to be made. This must be 
checked against the payroll. Third, there must be a document 
showing the amount paid to each employee and the authority 
for such payment, and this should be properly checked by the 
comptroller. Fourth, there must be a careful audit of the fore¬ 
going documents before pay checks or pay envelopes are 
prepared. 

The final act in the spending of public moneys is disbursing. 
Except for petty cash very little of the city’s money is dis¬ 
bursed in cash payments. The dangers of inaccuracy and irreg¬ 
ularity in cash disbursement are too great to be risked. To 
safeguard against these dangers a system of internal audit con¬ 
trol and payment by check has been worked out and adopted 
by cities having a sound conception of financial procedure. 
The moneys of the city are in the custody of the city treasurer, 
who may make no disbursement without legal authorization. 
The various spending officials are authorized by the appropria¬ 
tion acts to draw upon the treasury in certain amounts for 
certain specified purposes. In order to have a formal and per- 


Payroll pro¬ 
cedure 


Disbursing 


390 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The comp¬ 
troller’s 
audit 


III. Account¬ 
ing for the 
money 


manent record of the transaction the spending officer is re¬ 
quired to present his demand for payment in the form of a 
voucher, which is simply a document stating the amount to be 
paid and the appropriation to which it is to be charged. As 
evidence of the validity of the claim certain documents, as pur¬ 
chase orders or stores receipts, may be attached to the voucher. 

It would be easily possible to have the voucher presented 
directly to the treasurer and paid by him according to his own 
findings as to its validity. For greater safety, however, most 
cities interpose between the spending official and the treasurer 
an independent audit of the claim to be performed by the 
comptroller. The spending official forwards the voucher with 
supporting documents to the comptroller, who makes an in¬ 
vestigation to ascertain whether there was an appropriation 
for the purpose in question, whether the claim in question 
conforms to the provisions of the appropriation act, and 
whether there are encumbrances upon the appropriation that 
would preclude the payment of the claim in question. If the 
comptroller’s findings are favorable to the payment of the 
claim, he gives his approval and draws a warrant authorizing 
the treasurer to pay. Upon receipt of this warrant the treas¬ 
urer draws and delivers the check to the payee designated by 
the voucher and warrant. This procedure, which sounds round¬ 
about and complicated, has been greatly simplified by the 
introduction in many cities of a voucher-warrant-check form 
in a single document which passes through the required hands 
very simply and directly. In disbursement of salaries and 
wages to employees the payroll document serves the function 
of the voucher and the comptroller’s certification serves as the 
warrant to the treasurer. 

Municipal accounting, the third of the basic phases of finan¬ 
cial procedure, is a highly technical and specialized subject, 
but its general purposes and methods may be described in 
rather simple terms. The primary purposes of accounting 
are to furnish an accurate and permanent record of all finan¬ 
cial transactions and operations, to produce information that 
will be useful in interpreting past financial experience and 
in making future plans, and to afford a basis for more effective 
control of financial processes on the part of both the city 
council and the general public. The form of the accounts 
kept must in the nature of the case be determined by the 
character of the information that is sought. Generally speak- 


MUNICIPAL FINANCE 


391 

ing the matters about which there should be complete records 
and adequate and intelligible information are: (1) the sur¬ 
pluses or deficits incurred in the year’s financial operations, 
(2) the general bonded debt which the city is free to incur, 
and the future annual charges on account of existing indebted¬ 
ness, (3) the expenditures of the past fiscal period, (4) the 
means by which past expenditures have been financed, (5) 
the effects of legal restrictions upon expenditures, (6) the man¬ 
agement of funds for investment, (7) the liquidation of assets 
and liabilities, (8) the handling of the city’s cash, (9) the 
acquisition and custody of property, and (10) the condition 
of utility enterprises owned and operated by the city. 2 

By means of a system of interrelated registers, journals, and 
ledgers, far too elaborate and complicated for brief descrip¬ 
tion, accounts of these important matters may be kept. These 
accounts are nothing more than classified information based 
upon recorded facts in daily financial operation. Utilization 
of this information makes possible a scheme of financial re¬ 
porting which may afford an excellent means of analyzing, 
comparing, and interpreting past experience, and of forecast¬ 
ing future trends. Such reports also make possible a close 
check upon the integrity and efficiency of administrative offi¬ 
cials, and provide a means whereby such officials may be held 
accountable for their acts. Such reports are also an indispensa¬ 
ble element in the operation of a sound budget plan. 

It might be supposed that cities, like private business 
corporations, would be driven to institute orderly, systematic, 
and business-like financial procedure that would definitely fix 
responsibility and compel adherence to sound principles and 
practices. Until very recent times, however, that has not been 
the case, at least not in the United States. The power to raise 
revenues and make appropriations has been lodged in the city 
council with no apparent thought of safeguards and restrictions 
that would force the city to plan its spending program carefully 
in conformity with real needs and available income. The 
council has been demoralized by log-rolling politicians and 
predatory special interests, and has lacked the leadership to 
resist these baneful influences. Heads of administrative de¬ 
partments, instead of striving for economy have vied with 
one another in lobbying for appropriations in behalf of their 
respective departments whether needed or not. Expenditures 
2 Adapted from Buck, Municipal Finance, p. 146. 


Why we have 
had chaotic 
procedure in 
municipal 
finance 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The execu¬ 
tive budget 
system is 
the cure for 
financial 
disorders. 


392 

have been authorized heedlessly, recklessly, even corruptly, 
and with little or no thought of the income available to meet 
them or the possible effect upon the tax rate. Appropriations 
have been made in lump sum with little or no attempt to ascer¬ 
tain the details for which the money was to go. Continuing 
appropriations have gone on year after year with no regard 
whatever to changing conditions or unforeseen contingencies. 
The future has been mortgaged by borrowing unjustifiably 
and in excess of reasonable needs. Deficits have been met 
by robbing Peter to pay Paul and by robbing Paul to repay 
Peter. 

Many reasons may be cited for the loose and deplorable prac¬ 
tices which have characterized municipal finance, but funda¬ 
mentally they all boil down to one thing, lack of proper organ¬ 
ization to fix responsibility and produce leadership which 
cannot be easily disregarded or repudiated. It has been taken 
for granted that the vesting of financial responsibility primarily 
in the city council would be sufficient to insure good financial 
management, when it should have been realized that the re¬ 
sponsibility of the council could be none other than plural and 
divided responsibility. Practically every city councilman is the 
spokesman of a special local interest, and consequently looks 
at financial matters through colored glasses. So long as he 
keeps in good standing with his particular constituency it is not 
incumbent upon him to give much thought to the problems 
of the city as a whole. And the action of the council, par¬ 
ticularly in financial matters, is apt to be a mosaic of con¬ 
cessions to petty local interests. The mayor and the other 
executive officials of the city, having no responsibility in finance 
but that of spending what is given them by the council, and be¬ 
ing concerned for political or administrative reasons in the 
upbuilding of their respective departments, tend to become 
themselves a special interest exerting pressure upon the coun¬ 
cil for increased appropriations. So the financial processes 
of city government degenerate into a witch’s dance of extrav¬ 
agance and prodigality, and the poor taxpayer bemoans his 
lot, knowing not why or wherefore. 

The cure for this malady of disorganization has been found 
in the budget system, which has been introduced in hundreds 
of cities throughout the world during the past three or four 
decades. The budget system of finance is an outgrowth of the 
financial experience and practices under parliamentary govern- 


MUNICIPAL FINANCE 


393 

ment in England where it has reached its highest perfection. 
The essentials of the executive budget system may be summa¬ 
rized as follows: (i) centralization of responsibility for pre¬ 
paring and initiating a definite financial plan for each year 
in the executive head of the government; (2) centering upon 
the legislative body the function of reviewing and criticizing 
the plan proposed by the executive and of deciding whether it 
shall be put into effect with or without modifications; (3) in¬ 
clusion in the plan as proposed by the executive and adopted by 
the legislature of all proposals for raising and spending money 
during the ensuing financial period, and inhibiting all financial 
proposals not included in the budget plan; (4) execution of the 
plan by the administrative establishment under a system of ac¬ 
counting control which will insure adherence to the budget 
plan. 

In city government the mayor or city manager is customarily 
designated as the official responsible for the initial procedure of 
budget-making, but in cities having plural executive organiza¬ 
tion this function may devolve upon the city commission or ad¬ 
ministrative board as a whole or upon some financial official 
acting as the agent of the executive body. The first step is the 
preparation of estimates of income and expenditure. The 
budget official secures from each tax-collecting and income¬ 
receiving agency of the city and from each spending agency 
a careful estimate of anticipated or needed income and expend¬ 
itures for the ensuing year. Standard blank forms are pro¬ 
vided for the submission of these data, and the estimating offi¬ 
cials are presumed to base their estimates upon careful and 
conservative inquiries which they are willing to defend in the 
face of attack. The second step is the consolidation and review 
of the estimates. The chief budget official, having received 
the various estimates, proceeds to consolidate the estimates of 
income in one tabular statement and the estimates of expendi¬ 
ture in another. A comparison of the totals of these two 
statements quickly reveals whether a surplus or a deficit may 
be expected for the ensuing year. Comparison of these esti¬ 
mates with the experience of the past year or two promptly 
discloses the causes of any discrepancies which may appear. 
It is not only the duty of the budget official to make income 
and expenditure balance, but also to keep expenditures down 
so that taxes will not have to be increased. He is usually 
given power, therefore, to conduct hearings at which all esti- 


Budget 

essentials 


Budget pro¬ 
cedure 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Contents of 
the budget 
documents 


Adopting 
the budget 


394 

mating officials must appear and defend their estimates, and 
also to make changes in the estimates if he finds justification 
therefor. 

When this process of review and revision has been completed, 
the chief budget official prepares a proposed appropriation 
bill making provision for all the expenditure needs of the city 
for the ensuing year as shown by the estimates, and also pre¬ 
pares proposed legislation for the raising of revenues if addi¬ 
tional legislation be needed. These proposals he submits to the 
council, accompanying them with a message in which he ex¬ 
plains and defends the proposals presented by him. Along with 
his budget proposals and message he usually submits a number 
of financial documents which will enable the council to analyze 
and interpret his proposals intelligently. Under the best 
budget practice these include: (i) a balance sheet, showing 
the city’s existing liabilities and its resources for meeting 
them; (2) a debt statement, showing the amount of the city’s 
gross and net indebtedness and the extent to which its borrow¬ 
ing power under existing legislation is encumbered; (3) a fund 
statement, showing the condition of all the general and special 
funds of the city; (4) an operation statement, showing by 
what financial operations the city’s revenues and expenses 
have accrued during the past two or three financial periods 
and what may be expected in the future; (5) a surplus or defi¬ 
cit statement, explaining whether there has been an increase or 
decrease in the current surplus or deficit and the causes there¬ 
for; (6) a comparative summary of estimated and actual rev¬ 
enues and expenditures for the past two or three fiscal years 
as well as the estimated revenues and expenditures for the 
ensuing year. 

With this array of information before it the council pro¬ 
ceeds with the consideration of the budget proposals. The 
budget proposals are referred to a committee which enters upon 
an exhaustive and detailed examination of the whole matter. 
The chief budget official and probably many of the estimating 
officials are called to appear in the hearings of this committee 
and supplement the information already provided in the various 
budget data. This committee then reports its recommendations 
to the council, which in turn considers and debates the budget 
proposals in detail. Finally the budget proposals come up for 
final passage. The council now has before it for adoption a 
plan embracing every expenditure that will be allowed for the 


MUNICIPAL FINANCE 


395 

ensuing year and every expedient for raising revenue. It can 
readily perceive what will be the full effect of its action and 
where the responsibility lies for everything contained in the 
budget proposals. 

After the adoption of the budget proposals by the council 
it is the duty of both the council and the administrative estab¬ 
lishment to see that their terms are adhered to. Appropriation Enforcing 
accounts are set up in the comptroller’s books for each item the budget 
of the budget, and it becomes his duty to refuse to allow any 
expenditure that does not conform to the terms of the budget 
as adopted. Before issuing a warrant for any purpose the 
comptroller checks back against the appropriation accounts, 
and if he finds that the budget allowance for that particular 
purpose has already been spent or encumbered, he disallows 
the request for funds. The comptroller likewise checks upon 
the collection of revenues to see that the terms of the budget are 
fulfilled. To take care of unforeseen and exceptional require¬ 
ments a contingency fund is usually voted in the budget, and 
it is also generally provided that the council may transfer 
unexpended and unencumbered balances from one appropria¬ 
tion account to another. 

The merits of this system of financial procedure are so ob¬ 
vious as not to require much further discussion. The mayor 
or other executive head of the city government is forced to 
assume the responsibility of leadership in the determination 
of the city’s financial policies. There is no dodging this 
responsibility or escaping its consequences. The council may 
and properly should challenge the financial programs laid 
before it by the executive, but the council is not in a position 
to reject or indiscriminately modify the budget proposals of 
the executive without having plausible and defensible reasons 
for so doing. In the last analysis, therefore, the executive is 
under the necessity of developing an annual financial program 
capable of withstanding councilmanic criticism. This neces¬ 
sarily entails careful and comprehensive planning, and planning 
is the Alpha and Omega of wisdom in public finance. 


Selected References 
A. E. Buck, Municipal Finance, passim. 

W. Anderson, American City Government, Chaps. XX, XXI, 
XXII. 


39 6 URBAN DEMOCRACY 

A. C. Hanford, Problems in Municipal Government, Chaps. XXIV, 

XXV. 

C. C. Maxey, Readings in Municipal Government, Chaps. XIV, 
XV, XVI, XVII. 

B. W. Maxwell, Contemporary Municipal Government of Ger¬ 

many, Chap. VII. 

W. B. Munro, Municipal Government and Administration, Vol. II, 
Chaps. XLIII, XLIV. 

L. D. Upson, The Practice of Municipal Administration, Chaps. 
IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX. 

J. Wright, Selected Readings in Municipal Problems, Chaps. 
XLIII, XLIV. 

Questions and Problems for Discussion 

1. Find out what proportion of the annual expenditures of your 
city government are made at the full discretion of the city council 
and what proportion is controlled by state law. 

2. Procure, if possible, the latest financial reports of your city 
and analyze them to see whether they contain information that has 
any meaning for the taxpayer. 

3. If you were a salesman soliciting business from the city, would 
you prefer to deal with a single purchasing agent or with a number 
of different department heads? 

4. Is there any fundamental difference between a municipal bud¬ 
get and a household budget? Try to express municipal budget 
procedure in terms of household finance. 


CHAPTER XXV 

URBAN DEMOCRACY 


City life and city government as we have surveyed their prob¬ 
lems in the foregoing pages are seen to resolve themselves into 
one simple and transcendent problem, which is this: Can the 
American people, or any people, by democratic processes of 
government solve the colossal problems incident to modern in¬ 
dustrial civilization? Can urban democracy, in other words, 
successfully cope with the immeasurably baffling difficulties 
which modern technology is piling up ahead of our political 
institutions? 

There were democracies, or near-democracies, among the 
cities of antiquity; but as compared with the cities of today 
their problems were as simple as a school primer compared with 
an encyclopedia. They had no public school systems to ad¬ 
minister, no public utilities to regulate or operate, no armies of 
policemen and firemen to direct and control, no elaborate health 
and sanitary codes to enforce, no vehicular traffic to control, 
no gigantic engineering and constructional enterprises com¬ 
parable with those of today to carry through, no miscellaneous 
hordes of industrial robots to guide and govern. But even so 
they found themselves unequal to the necessities of their situa¬ 
tion, incapable of supplying the intelligence and rendering the 
services essential to government of and by the people. Democ¬ 
racy degenerated into tyranny, and tyranny eventuated in ruin. 
It was the judgment of Plato, Aristotle, and other master 
thinkers of the ancient world that the democracies of their day 
were predestined to failure by reason of their own inherent 
weaknesses. 

A similar story might be told of the democratic or semi- 
democratic city states of Italy and western Europe during the 
mediaeval period — a story of brief and turbulent careers cul¬ 
minating in autocracy and ending in decline and decay. Few 
of the great political philosophers who adorned this period had 
any confidence in democracy or believed it capable of serving 
the needs of their day. 


Can urban 
democracy 
succeed? 


Failures of 
urban 
democracy 
in former 
times 


397 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


Urban de¬ 
mocracy and 
the new day 
in social and 
economic 
life 


The effects 
of mass 
production 


398 

In modern times the rise of urban democracy has paralleled 
the great industrial metamorphosis which has so profoundly 
altered the life of the western world during the last century, 
but its most intensive development has taken place since the 
dawn of the twentieth century. Despite the tremendous con¬ 
centration of population in cities and the enormous multiplica¬ 
tion of cities caused by that long series of technological ad¬ 
vances which we call the Industrial Revolution, the problems 
of urban government and the general problems growing out of 
urban conditions prior to 1900 differed only in degree and not in 
kind from the urban problems of former ages. Self-governing 
urban peoples then, as always, had serious difficulties to sur¬ 
mount, but they were difficulties consequent upon the intensi¬ 
fication of problems inherent in an age-old social order, and not 
difficulties arising from the advent of an entirely new social 
system. 

Since 1900, however, things have happened which portend 
the rise of a civilization as different from that of a generation 
ago as 1900 a.d. was different from 1900 b.c. Since the turn of 
the century the continuity of our cultural development has been 
abruptly interrupted and diverted to new and uncharted 
courses. Such unforeseen and profoundly transformative in¬ 
fluences as mass production in industry, the corporate integra¬ 
tion and progressive depersonalization of management in com¬ 
merce and industry, the motorization of society, the impact of 
the moving picture and the radio upon the popular mind, the 
cumulative effects of compulsory education, and the conse¬ 
quences of our recent and marvellous advances in sanitation and 
health control are conspiring to undermine every foundation of 
the old order of things. To describe the full effects of these 
new forces would exceed the spatial limits imposed by this brief 
survey, but enough may be said to indicate conclusively that 
urban democracy is confronted today with the challenge of a 
new civilization, a new order of life, and a new array of 
problems. 

Mass production, precocious child of the twentieth century, 
is so recent an addition to our social equipment that we have 
yet to plumb its possibilities and discover all its consequences. 
Already, however, we have seen it virtually destroy the labor 
movement of the last century and enslave millions of men and 
women to the dreary lockstep of mechanical production. Train¬ 
ing, skill, experience, mental alertness, and length of service are 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


399 


no longer the prime requisites of an industrial worker. What 
the endless chain of machine processes requires is a person 
whose mind can grasp the few simple operations necessary to 
the functioning of the machine and whose nervous organization 
can be speeded up to the feverish tempo of machine-tending. 
Mass production wants its workers young, offers them little 
security in their jobs because they can be so easily replaced, 
sucks out most of their vital energies by the time they reach 
the age of fifty, and then turns them loose upon society, pre¬ 
maturely aged industrial derelicts. While they are on the job, 
mass production may compensate them not indecently or alto¬ 
gether inadequately in dollars and cents, but that is its only 
compensation. It offers nothing to absorb their mental inter¬ 
ests, to satisfy their creative, constructive, or initiative im¬ 
pulses, or to stimulate their aspirations for advancement to 
more responsible positions. The job requires the use of but a 
small fraction of their mental capacities, a constantly diminish¬ 
ing part of their muscular strength, and an ever more increas¬ 
ing measure of their nervous energies. Virtual robots while on 
the job, they naturally react violently in their leisure hours 
from the boredom of their daily routine. What is urban democ¬ 
racy going to do with these multiplying millions who are being 
fed to the moloch of mass production, or what are they going 
to do with it? That question becomes more and more dis¬ 
quieting as we consider it in connection with some of the other 
great forces which are at work in modern society. 

Pace by pace the mechanization of industry has been accom¬ 
panied by a remarkable enlargement of the units of business 
and industrial operation and an equally remarkable concentra¬ 
tion of corporate control and management. Combination upon 
combination and merger upon merger are centering the author¬ 
ity of direction and control in the business world in an ever- 
diminishing number of individuals, and this despite the fact 
that stock ownership is perhaps more widely diffused than ever 
before. Management is becoming impersonal, remote, and in¬ 
dependent of local feeling or influence. To put it bluntly, mass 
production is coming under the sway of a financial and indus¬ 
trial oligarchy whose first concern is the stock market and the 
dividend report. Continued, even though at times artificial, 
prosperity has averted temporarily a clash between these forces 
and the submerged masses whose most convenient and most 
quickly available weapon is their political power. But such a 


The effects 
of business 
and industrial 
combinations 


400 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The effects 
of the auto¬ 
mobile, the 
movie, and 
the radio 


conflict is not to be avoided permanently unless the economic 
masters and overlords of the world shall suddenly develop a 
higher degree of social and political intelligence than they have 
as yet shown any evidence of possessing. Such a clash, if it 
should come, would test as by fire and acid the institutions of 
modern urban democracy, for the most critical battles of this 
titanic social struggle would be fought in the cities. 

The most revolutionary invention of modern times is un¬ 
questionably the automobile. It has done more to undermine 
the traditional institutions lying at the foundation of our civili¬ 
zation than any one thing that has happened since history be¬ 
gan to be written. Under the calescent speed of a motorized 
society the historic solidarity of the family is melting away; 
under the pressure of the same force the church is suffering a 
marked decline of social influence and authority; under the 
same influence old standards of living and crystallized habits 
of life are being completely swept away; under the same trans¬ 
forming force most of the long-established usages and methods 
of business are being modified or abandoned; the very physical 
features of our cities and of the surrounding countryside are 
being profoundly and permanently altered. The mass of people 
are on the move today as never before in history, constantly 
and restlessly on the move. Mobility has released the people 
from the old limitations of time and place, and in so doing has 
outmoded most of the respectable conventions of the older so¬ 
cial systems and thereby greatly weakened their effectiveness 
as instruments of social control. Closely akin to the effects of 
the automobile are those of the moving picture and the radio. 
If the automobile has blessed the people with physical mobility, 
the movie and the radio have in their turn conferred the boon 
of mental mobility. The man in the street today may see and 
hear what the man in every street sees and hears the whole 
world ’round, and in so doing he becomes less certain of the 
eternal verities of his own social system, unmoored, overstimu¬ 
lated, and perhaps increasingly unstable. Such are the sover¬ 
eign, self-governing people upon whom the future success of 
urban democracy depends. What can we expect of such a 
people? What will be their response in the desperate crises 
which the future holds for the democratic system of gov- 
ernnment? 

Ominous, too, is the fact that in the United States at least 
urban population is beginning to show some of the effects of 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


401 

the intensive application of the system of compulsory educa¬ 
tion during the last generation or so. During the time that 
we have been evolving an economic system that dooms the 
great mass of people to precarious and stupefying servitude in 
the massive operations of factories, department stores, chain 
retail establishments, and other business enterprises conducted 
in large organization units we have also been forcing upon our 
people, through compulsory education, an ever mounting quan¬ 
tum of literacy, if not learning. We have now an urban prole¬ 
tariat that can read and write, one that feeds upon the news¬ 
papers, the tabloids, and the popular magazines and is educated 
thereby to aspire to a higher scale of comfort and luxury than 
its economic servitude often permits it to attain. What will 
be the fate of democracy in the hands of such a proletariat? 
Will education sober and stabilize the industrial masses or will 
it excite them to disorder and destruction? 

Along with the disturbing developments mentioned in the 
preceding paragraphs we should note the fact also that the 
twentieth century has witnessed an amount of progress in 
the science of sanitation and health control which makes not 
only possible but practically certain that we shall enormously 
curtail the life wastage that has been characteristic of urban so¬ 
ciety in the past. In fact we have already done so, particularly 
the wastage occurring in the earlier years of life. We are carry¬ 
ing over now into mature life a constantly growing proportion 
of the children born and reared in urban environments, and 
this splendid achievement is coming to constitute an additional 
complication in our social system, for our progress in control¬ 
ling and directing the social and economic life of the world has 
not kept pace with our progress in medicine and hygiene. It 
is a noble and wonderful thing to save the lives of children, 
but when the lives so spared are often merely added to that 
growing human surplusage which cannot be fully absorbed by 
our economic processes, we may well wonder what the end of it 
all will be. Already in certain of the more highly urbanized 
portions of the world the problem of overpopulation has as¬ 
sumed embarrassing proportions, millions of persons being more 
or less permanently out of employment and dependent upon 
public assistance. This problem is of course a national as well 
as a local problem, but it is one of peculiar concern to the city 
because it chiefly involves urban populations and adds enor¬ 
mously to the difficulties of urban democracy. 


The effects 
of compul¬ 
sory educa¬ 
tion 


The effects 
of improved 
control of 
health con¬ 
ditions 


402 


URBAN DEMOCRACY 


The problems 
of urban 
democracy 
in the 
future 


We may well conclude, therefore, that the tasks lying before 
urban democracy in the next generation or two are not only 
unprecedented but are vastly more complicated than any the 
world has faced in previous generations. Stated in brief sum¬ 
mary, they include the following: (i) through intelligent so¬ 
cial readjustment to bridge the deep and perilous chasm be¬ 
tween an obsolete and decadent social economy and one of 
radically different nature that yet remains to be fully born; 

(2) through effective community control and direction to find 
practical and workable solutions for the urgent and fearfully 
tangled problems of the present period of flux and transition; 

(3) in a world whose social and economic texture is growing 
ever more complex, to strive unremittingly for an ever closer 
approximation of justice in the social and economic relations of 
men; and (4) to adapt and re-fashion the political mechanisms 
and processes of contemporary society so that they will be 
suited to the needs of a new and unforeseen type of human 
society. 

Can urban democracy succeed in the performance of these 
supremely trying tasks? That question must be answered and 
that challenge must be met by the youth who throng our schools 
and colleges today, for upon them will descend the responsi¬ 
bility of directing the destinies of democracy in the tempestuous 
years to come. 


INDEX 


Accounting, 390, 391 
Adjoints, 87, 89 

Administration, importance of, 
184, 185; politics should not mix 
with, 186 

Administrative machinery, prob¬ 
lems of, 189, 190 

Administrative organization, prin¬ 
ciples of, 186-188 
Administrative personnel, prob¬ 
lems of, 195-217 

Administrative service, English, 83, 
84; French, 90 

Adulteration, prevention of, 289, 
290 

Aliens, problems resulting from 
presence in cities of, 19-21 
Annexation, 173, 174 
Appropriations, 386 
Argentina, city government in, 97, 
98 

Automobile, effects on urban so¬ 
ciety of, 400 

Berlin, metropolitan unification in, 
179, 180 

Bonding policies, 384 
Boroughs, classification of, in Eng¬ 
land, 81, 82; colonial, 101; legal 
position of, in England, 81; 
powers of, in England, 46; struc¬ 
ture of government of, 82-84 
Borrowing, short and long term, 
382-384 
Bosses, 161, 162 
Boss rule, causes of, 165-167 
Brazil, city government in, 99 
Bryce, Viscount, quoted, 18 
Budget, contents of, 394, 395 ; exe¬ 
cution of, 395; system of finance 
of, 392-394 

Building inspection, 248-250 


Building laws, 249 
Burgomaster, 92, 93 

Central control, administrative 
system of, 43-46; different sys¬ 
tems of, 48-50; legislative sys¬ 
tem of, 42, 43; mixed system of, 
45-47 

Central purchasing, 388, 389 
Character, importance of, in civil 
service, 205 

Charities, municipal, 293, 294 
Check-and-balance system, fea¬ 
tures of, 115, 116; weaknesses 
of, 116, 117 

Childs, R. S., quoted, 108, 109 
Chile, city government in, 96, 97 
Cincinnati, manager government 
in, 135 

Cities, forces which make, 2; 
governmental problems of, 33- 
35; individuality of, 2; un¬ 
checked growth of, 15 
City, psychological bases of, 5, 6 
City and state, history of relations 
of, in the United States, 52, 53 
City beautification, 340, 341 
City-county consolidation, problem 
of, 174-176 

City growth, causal factors of, 3 
City manager, functions of, 130- 
132 

City planning, 328-350;, admin¬ 
istrative organization for, 336, 
337; basic problems in, 334, 
335; commissions, nature and 
powers of, 337, 338; financial 
problems of, 349, 35°; his¬ 

tory of, 329-331; legal problems 
of, 335, 336; objects of, 329, 330; 
progress of, in Europe, 332, 333 
Civic art, 341 


4°3 


404 


INDEX 


Civil service, 196-217; English, 
84-86; French, 90 
Civil service commission, 197-200 
Civil service examinations, 203-206 
Civil service records and ratings, 
209, 210 

Civilization, influence of cities 
upon, 7-1 x 

Classification of civil servants, 200- 
202 

Classified service, 202, 203 
Cleveland, adoption of manager 
plan in, 111; experience with 
manager plan in, 136-139 
Commerce as a cause of city 
growth, 4 

Commission plan, decline of, 123; 
features of, 120, 121; history of, 
104-106; shortcomings of, 123- 
125; strong points, 122, 123 
Committee system, 85, 86 
Commune, 86-88; legal position of, 
44 , 45 

Community, social foundations of, 
1, 2 

Compensation, problem of, in civil 
service, 210-2x4 
Comptroller, 390 

Compulsory education, effects of, 
on urban society, 401 
Congestion, problem of, in cities, 
22, 23 

Constitution of the United States, 
protection of, to cities, 58, 59 
Construction, contract system of, 
367, 368; direct system of, 367, 
368 

Contagious diseases, 253-256 
Contract method of utility regula¬ 
tion, 305-307 

Contracts, obligation of, in respect 
to cities, 58 

Corruption, problem of, in cities, 
27, 28 

Council, composition of, 114; con¬ 
sidered functionally, 141; how 
members should be elected to, 
143-147; how to make rep¬ 
resentative, 141, 142; powers 
of, 113, 114; size of, 141, 

142 


Councilmanic type of city gov¬ 
ernment, 114, 115 
Crime, hazards of, in cities, 218, 
219 

Criminal identification, 240 
Cultural betterment, 282, 283 

Dayton, history of manager plan 
in, 109-111 

Debt limitations, 375-377 
Debt limits and tax limits, rela¬ 
tions between, 377 
Decentralization of American city 
government, 102, 103 
Defense, as cause of city growth, 
3 , 4 

Democracy, difficulties of, in urban 
society, 150; traditional dogmas 
of, 153-155 

Departments, external contacts of, 
194, 195; problems on or¬ 

ganization of, 192-194; relations 
between, 193, 194 
Depreciation, question of, in utility 
regulation, 322, 323 
Des Moines plan of city govern¬ 
ment, 106 

Detective bureau, problems of, 
229-231 

Disbursing, 389, 390 

Discipline, 207-209 

Diseases, communicable, 253-256; 

reporting of, 255, 256 
Districts, metropolitan, 177, 178 
Due process of law, relation of, to 
city government, 58, 59 

Economic dependence, prevalence 
of, in cities, 25-27 
Economic functions of city gov¬ 
ernment, 286, 287 
Education, adaptation of, to urban 
needs, 278-280; as a conse¬ 
quence of divided control of, 
278; European and American 
systems of, 277, 278; as a func¬ 
tion of city government, 276, 
277; higher, 281; importance of, 
275, 276; vocational, 280 
Employment agencies, municipal, 
292, 293 


INDEX 


405 


England, history of municipal gov¬ 
ernment in, 81; urban popula¬ 
tion of, 13 

Equal protection of laws, inter¬ 
pretation of, in respect to cities, 
59 

Examinations, civil service, 203- 
205 

Executive, independent vs. subor¬ 
dinate, 147, 148; leadership of, 
132, 133! organization, problems 
of, 147-149; relation of, to coun¬ 
cil, 148, 149; unitary vs. plural, 
148 

Expenditures, 386-390 

Family, effect of urbanization upon, 
24, 25 

Federal plan of metropolitan unifi¬ 
cation, 178, 179 
Finance, municipal, 370-395 
Fire department, organization of, 
244, 245 

Fire prevention, 246-248 
Fire protection, 244 
Food, protection of, 261, 262 
Foreign born, proportion of, in 
cities, 18, 19 

Form of government, importance 
of, 74-76; should city determine? 
76, 77; variety of, 77, 78 
France, administrative control in, 
44, 45; urban population of, 
13 

Franchises, considerations on, 301- 
303; content of, 304-306; inde¬ 
terminate, 303, 304; problems of, 
306 

Fumigation, 254 

Functions, administrative, 189- 
191; local vs. central, 40, 41 

Galveston, origin of commission 
plan in, 104-106 
Garbage, disposal of, 363, 364 
General ticket system, 143 
German cities, 90-92 
Germany, urban population of, 13 
Goodnow, F. J., quoted, 183 
Government, as a cause of city 
growth, 4, 5 


Grants-in-aid, 47 

Greater New York, government of, 
178, 179 

Health, hazards of, in cities, 252; 

problems of, 21, 22 
Health education, 268 
Home rule, arguments for and 
against, 69, 70; basic purpose of, 
64, 65; Colorado system of, 67, 
68; consequences of, 70, 71; di¬ 
versity of, 63, 64; extent of, 
in Washington, 67; history of, 
63; interpretation of, in Ohio, 
67; methods of applying, 65, 66; 
powers of, 63-65; procedure of, 
69, 70; question of local affairs 
in, 66, 67 

Housing, as a factor in health, 264; 
municipal control of, 287, 288; 
relation of, to city planning, 343 ; 
shortage of, 288 
Howe, F. C., quoted, 156 

Immunization, 254, 255 
Income, sources of, 378, 379 
Industrial diseases, 259 
Infant mortality, problem of, 264, 
265 

Institutions, services of, in pro¬ 
moting health, 265, 266 
Interests, part of, in municipal pol¬ 
itics, 158-160 

Isolation, in control of disease, 253, 
254 

Italian cities, 93 

Judicial machinery in cities, 241- 
243 

Jury system, 243, 244 
Justice, connection of, with police 
administration, 241 

Kansas City, manager government 
in, 135 

Laissez faire, doctrine of, unten¬ 
able in cities, 31-33; effect of 
urbanization upon, 285 
Latin America, city government in, 

9S-100 


INDEX 


406 

Latin American cities, achieve¬ 

ments of, 99 
Legal aid, 291, 292 
Legal position of cities in the 

United States, 52, 53 
Legislature, powers of, over cities, 
SS, 56 

Lighting of streets, 359-361 
Local powers, modes of grant¬ 
ing, 42, 43; problem of, 40, 

41 

Lockport proposal, history of, 107- 
109 

Lodging houses, municipal, 293 
London, metropolitan government 
in, 180, 181 

Machines, political, 161-165 
Magisterial system, 92 
Magistral, 92 

Manager, diversity as to functions 
of, 127 

Manager plan, controlled executive 
principle of, 130-132; experience 
with, 134-139; fundamental fea¬ 
tures of, 126; history of, 106- 
112; legislative priority under, 
128-130; number of cities un¬ 
der, 133; theory of, 128-133 
Markets, municipal, provision of, 
290 

Mass production, effects of, on ur¬ 
ban life, 398, 399 

Mayor, in England, 83; in France, 
45, 88, 89; position of, in coun- 
cilmanic system, 113, 114; posi¬ 
tion of, in manager plan, 126, 
127; position of, in strong mayor 
plan, 117, 118 
McBain, H. L., quoted, 53 
McQuillen, E., quoted, 54 
Medical examination in schools, 
267, 268 

Merit system, principles of, 196- 
198 

Metropolitan consolidation, federal 
plan of, 178-180 

Metropolitan disintegration, causes 
of, 168, 169 

Metropolitan districts, nature and 
value of, 176-178 


Metropolitan disunity, examples 
of, 169; results of, 170-172 
Metropolitan government, 168- 
178 

Mexico, city government in, 98, 99 
Milk, inspection of, 261, 262 
Moral conditions in cities, 28, 29 
Movies, effects of, on urban society, 
400, 401 

Municipal construction, 366, 367 
Municipal corporation, attributes 
of, 54; legal liabilities of, 72, 73 
Municipal freedom, struggle for, 57 
Municipal markets, provision of, 
290 

Municipal officers, local selection 
of, 60, 61 

Municipal organization, disintegra¬ 
tion of, 103, 104 

Municipal ownership, arguments 
for and against, 312-315; ex¬ 
perience with, 314—317; future 
of, 318 

Municipal powers, delegation of, 
by statutory enumeration, 42, 
43; modes of granting, 42; 
sources of, 39-42 

Municipal services, relation of, to 
city planning, 341-343 
Municipalities, powers of, in Eng¬ 
land, 46 

Munro, W. B., quoted, 49,70 

Napoleon, influence of, in develop¬ 
ment of French municipal gov¬ 
ernment, 45 

New governmental problems of 
cities, 33-35 

New York, metropolitan consolida¬ 
tion in, 178-180 

Optional charter laws, 77, 78 

Parks, 270, 271; relation of, to 
city planning, 341 
Patrol, types and problems of, 226- 
229 

Pavements, problems of, 352-355 
Paving costs, 355, 356 
Paving program, importance of, 
354 . 355 


INDEX 


Payrolls, 389 

Pensions, in civil service, 215, 216 
People, part played by, in muni¬ 
cipal politics, 159, 160 
Peru, city government in, 97 
Physical decline, problem of, 266, 
267 

Planning of streets, 338-340 
Playgrounds, 271, 272 
Police, local, vs. central control of, 
225, 226; problems of, 220-241; 
problems of patrol, 226-228 
Police administration, organization 
of department of, 221-223; per¬ 
sonnel problems in, 224, 225 
Politicians, professional, part of, in 
municipal affairs, 159-161 
Politics, municipal, European and 
American compared, 156, 157; 
game of, in American cities, 158- 
161; nature of, 150-167 
Politics and administration, rela¬ 
tions between, 188-190 
Pope Alexander, quoted, 174 
Population, concentration of, in 
cities, 13, 14 

Prefect, powers of, 44, 45 
Promotions in civil service, 207 
Property uses, abuses of, 344, 
345 

Proportional representation, 145- 
147 

Prosecuting attorney, 243 
Public purpose rule in taxation, 
59 

Purchasing, 387, 388 

Radio, effects of, in urban society, 
400 

Recreation, administration of, 272, 
273; commercial, 273; connec¬ 
tion of, with health, 269, 270; 
policies of, 270 
Reed, T. H., quoted, 176 
Regional planning, 347, 348 
Regulation of utilities, methods of, 
300, 301 

Religion, as a cause of city growth, 
4 

Repaving, problem of, 355 
Retirement, problem of, 2x4-216 


407 

Revenue system, essentials of, 379- 
381 

Revenues, central control of, 372, 
373; municipal, 371-383 
Rhine Province, municipal govern¬ 
ment in, 93 

Rubbish, disposal of, 364, 365 
Russian cities, 93 

Safety, city’s responsibility for, 218, 
219 

Schools, medical service in, 267, 
268 

Secret service, 229-232 
Self-government, requisites of, 154, 
155 

Separation of powers, influence of, 
on American city government, 
102 

Serial bonds, 384, 385 
Service-at-cost plan, 325, 326 
Sewage disposal, 358, 359 
Sewerage, 261 
Sewers, 357-359 
Sinking funds, 385, 386 
Smoke, problem of, 263 
Snow removal, 365, 366 
Spain, city government in, 95, 
96 

Special assessments, nature of, 381, 
382; procedure of, 382 ; uses of, 
in city planning, 348, 349 
Special districts, prohibited, 61 
Special legislation, banned in Ohio, 
61; examples of, 61, 62; faults 
of, 62, 63; use of, 56 
Staff and line principle, 191, 192 
Standardization of employments, 
212-214 

State constitution, guarantees for 
protection of, in cities, 60- 

63 

State legislature, supremacy of, 55, 
56 

States, relation of, to cities in the 
United States, 52, 53 
Statutory control of utilities, 308- 
3ii 

Staunton, Va., origin of manager 
plan in, 106, 107 
Street cleaning, 365 


INDEX 


408 

Street improvements, problem of, 
35 D 352 

Street lighting, problems of, 360- 
362 

Streets, hazards of, in cities, 219 
Strong mayor plan, 117-120 
Structures, hazards of, 219 
Subordination of cities, 39-4 1 
Sumter, S. C., manager plan in, 
109, no 

Tax limitations, 373-376 
Taxation, public purpose rule in, 
59 

Terminal facilities, provision of, 
290, 291 

Town clerk, 83-85 
Town council, English, 82, 83 
Traffic code, need of, 237 
Traffic problem, 235-239; police 
cannot solve, 238 
Training for public service, 206 
Tuberculosis, problem of, in cities, 
257, 258 

Uniformity of city government in 
Europe, 76-80 

United States, legislative system of 
control in, 43; urbanization of, 

14 

Urban democracy, 392-402 
Urban population, proportion of, 
in various states of the United 
States, 14 

Urban society, composition of, 150, 
151; economic struggle in, 151- 
153 


Urbanization, causes of, 12, 13; 
history of, in the United States, 

14 

Utilities, fixing rates of, 321- 
325; history of, 298-300; muni¬ 
cipal, 295-326; must be subject 
to regulation, 297, 298; public 
interest in, 295, 296; regulation, 
objects of, 321, 322; regulation 
of, through contract, 301; statu¬ 
tory control of, 307-309; valua¬ 
tion of, 324, 325 

Utility business, inherently monop¬ 
olistic nature of, 296, 297 

Utility regulation, newer problems 
of, 319, 320 

Venereal diseases, problem of, 258, 
259 

Vice laws, difficulty of enforcing, 
232-234 

Ward elections, 143-145 

Washington, D. C., city plan of, 
33 1 ? 332 

Wastes, disposal of, 363-365 

Water supplies, purification of, 260, 
261 

Weights and measures, municipal 
control of, 288, 289 

White, L. D., quoted, 135 

Zoning, beginnings of, in Germany, 
345; contemporary practice of, 
346; development of, in the 
United States, 345, 346; difficul¬ 
ties of, 346, 347 
























































































